


What Should We Do with the Lightning?

by Phase7, ThatsMetal



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, Developing Relationship, M/M, Oviposition, Pregnancy Kink, Relationship Negotiation, Robot pussy, Stuffing, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles, Vaginal Sex, as in AU where Desperado were all squid people, which will never be explained, you're a kid now you're a squid now
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2018-01-11
Packaged: 2019-02-25 17:55:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 28,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13217901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phase7/pseuds/Phase7, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatsMetal/pseuds/ThatsMetal
Summary: That single lightning burst that finds you in the universe...Raiden should have thought twice before writing his number in the parking space of a stolen bike.  He should have reconsidered letting Samuel Rodrigues into his life again.  He should have talked himself out of falling in love.  But he didn't, and now his whole life is changing.  Maybe, just maybe, for the better.Also, the tentacles were a surprise.





	1. Who would choose to live in Colorado?

Who would choose to live in Colorado? Outside of Denver, it was all mountains, cows, corn, and people who said "bless you" instead of "damn you." Who would choose to live in this mile high city where it was still snowing, and the radiators barely leaked in any heat, and people thought painting concrete red was an excuse for endless boxes? Who would stay in the city where they'd messed everyone else's shit up and should have been a pariah? Probably Raiden. Raiden, Jack Something, didn't even ski.

Not that Samuel Rodrigues skied either.

He was a boater, and a rough hiker. Some of his earliest memories had a machete in his hands when his grandfather sent him out to cut down the summer leaves from the family's old game trail while the adults took care of the actual problem branches. Eventually they'd run into a tapir or coypu, and he'd watch its legs get tied up before they brought it back to the village circle. The thatch rooves had a particular smell that felt like it was falling on him like leaves. He was allowed to sit on the dirt, and eat without chopsticks. He had great memories of his Brazilian grandparents' village before the logging corporation came in. When he was twenty-two he'd rowed up the river again on his own. Nothing was there.

Denver was cold, while the Amazon was hot. They were both wet, but seeing the snow come down again in droves while he sipped at stolen hot chocolate, Samuel wished it could be more like home. Squatting in Raiden's apartment felt more like home than a shipping container. More like home than the grave, so he should count his blessings.

Questions again returned to his mind while he shrugged his body deeper under a blocky square comforter. Why had he tracked down the number of the man who stole his bike and left a slashed-in IOU on the sidewalk? To get it back. When the number came up linked to an apartment, and the apartment was listed under a familiar owner, why did he come here anyway? Morbid curiosity. And how long would the kind of man who stayed in Denver let him stay here?

Raiden remained in Colorado.

The truth was that he had never before become attached to any one place. Dramatic as it was, nowhere he’d lived felt like home to Raiden. Certainly not Liberia, which was only home to nightmares, if anything. Certainly not the house where he stayed with his tense foster parents during his teen years. The closest he’d gotten to a home was in New York. As little effort as he put into decorating his living space like a home, he had always enjoyed the city itself. For a while, he came to love it for all the places that became synonymous with the story of how he fell in love for the first time.

And then those precious memories became forever tainted. Now he wasn’t so sure if he could ever go back there. That was how things always seemed to go. All of his happiest memories were taken from him, one way or another. He long since gave up on choosing a place to call home. He was a nomad now, and he stayed where he felt he needed to be. For now, that still felt like Denver: a little bit of sunshine still lived just South of the city.

The cold hardly bothered him after spending so long in a city as far up north as New York. It was why he was able to easily loan one of his blankets to his new house guest who was so much more accustomed to warmer climates. Of course, the hot chocolate was something Sam had to get for himself. Raiden never was much of a sweets guy, and he wasn’t even supplied with coffee anymore since he no longer needed it. It was a good thing he was stubborn and made Sam get his own hot beverage, or else he might have gotten him something less suited to his tastes. 

Raiden finally realized that he was standing in silence. If he wanted to be a decent host, he probably needed to exchange more than ten words with his guest.

"Comfy?" Raiden asked. There. Now it was eleven.

"I've been bet—" Sam cut himself off. Looking up at his host, he could see that the boy was actually trying to channel whatever modicum of nice he had. Why even call him a boy? They were probably around the same age. It must have been that young face, those soft long lines, the big blue eyes. Like some sort of fairy book character. So, it was better to be polite, even though he turned his face away. "Yes, thank you."

Raiden couldn’t help but snort a laugh. "Wow. You’re trying to fake niceness. That sure isn’t like you. I must really be doing a good job." And here he was cracking a joke. He must have been feeling quite comfortable too. Comfortable enough to even share the couch with him. Raiden took the empty spot at the other side.

"And now you're chatting, Mr. Icicle." Sam took a sip, side eyeing Raiden. "We are both full of surprises." The couch sunk down further than a human would push it, speaking to the sharpness and weight of the body beside him. Yet the head remained so human. Sam wondered how much of it was real flesh, like his that once sat under his discarded armour.

Upon closer inspection, very little of it was real flesh. Though it was hidden from casual view, little of Raiden's body was even made of artificial flesh. The man had long ago realized that he could never look fully human again, and had since decided to at least stay away from the uncanny valley by not covering himself with skin that would be too flawless skin, if not for the obvious seams. Better to look like a robot than some sort of freaky doll, especially when he had the sort of face that made people like Sam ogle.

"Though I don’t think any surprise I could pull would compare to what you’ve done, showing up here like this." Awkward as Raiden was going about it, it felt nice to be speaking with someone again. He hadn’t had much of anyone to talk to since leaving Maverick, aside from the regular calls from Sunny.

"I don't much care for anyone else in Denver," Samuel said truthfully. "We've had our rocky days, yes, but because of that I can trust you, a warrior to another warrior. We talked with our blades, sharing that understanding that runs in our blood, cutting deeper than words."

Raiden was tempted to chuckle again. So he really talked like that, huh?

"I guess I can’t disagree with you. I don’t exactly know anyone else in Denver. But I’m sure you would have tracked me down if I went to Florida or Alabama even, wouldn’t you?"

This Raiden punctuated with the smallest smirk and quirk of his eyebrow. He knew who he was dealing with. That shit-eating grin wouldn’t be besting him this time. ...And it came on cue. Sam smiled at Raiden, looked up into this eyes, then the ceiling, and then laughed. His bulky shoulders shook from it, but he managed to keep his hot cup from spilling. He had to shake his head, the long curls rolling along his back. Raiden was reading too deep.

"No, this is just a... hm, serendipity? Fortune giving me a warmer place to stay? If only for an afternoon maybe."

"Warmer in a sense, right?" Raiden didn’t exactly join in his laugh, but it was hard to keep his smile from growing. Sam had a nice sort of infectious laugh that was enjoyable to listen to when it wasn’t at his own expense. "You can stay here longer than just an afternoon though. If you need it."

"No, I mean I've been sleeping in a shipping crate ever since I was forced back into this world. Not only is it warmer here, but there's much better company. I don't even have to use the phone. And..." Sam was honestly surprised by Raiden's offer, as it cut through his rush of words. "You must be harder up for friends than I am."

Oh. Well then. That made his smile falter for a moment out of embarrassment, but at least Sam seemed grateful for the offer. At least he assumed so. "Mm." His mouth tightened. He may have been willing to have Sam as his guest, but he wasn’t exactly ready to do away with his cool persona and expose how pathetically lonely he honestly was so quickly. But could he hide it even if he tried at this point? "Things have been pretty quiet these days." There. That didn’t sound pitiful at all.

"Not halfway around the globe spreading Liberty and Freedom for all who survive, ehn?" Well that dig was probably too sharp. But he wouldn't take it back.

Now that was more like the Sam that Raiden knew. Raiden frowned, determined not to let him get the better of him all over again. "As a matter of fact, yeah, it is a rare and dull moment of peace and quiet between a new mission. Or it _was_ , at least."

"I'd fight you, but you have my sword." Sam cocked an eyebrow.

"That so? Maybe I’ll keep it a little longer if you can’t fight me without it." He was planning on giving it back, actually, but if he was going to be like this about it...

"Oh, I can fight you, pretty boy. I can crush you between my arms, like this." He flexed a beefy arm, built up with real muscle from years of old fashioned physical training. The fist at the end of his clenched arm unwound, pointing at Raiden's tiny nose. "If you want to have another fair fight. Fist to fist, skin on skin."

Raiden rolled his eyes. "Maybe if it wasn’t too cold to take it outside. You can stop flexing, you conceited bastard."

Sam's smile only grew more self-satisfied, twisting deep into his very accent. "Jealous?"

Compared to him, even with his motorized enhancements, Raiden was like a little twig, ready to snap. A small boy, who had bested him in battle, yes, but... a good proud warrior but... small and unthreatening. Could not seem less threatening as he stood in an apartment offering people blankets.

"No. I don’t need to look like a jarhead to feel strong," Raiden replied. Sam’s ego obviously needed a bit of gentle crushing.

"You will not see a jarhead with hair like mine." Sam continued his boast, undeterred. He settled back into the couch, drinking more of his hot cocoa.

Trying to brag about his hair too? Raiden only had his ideas of high school and the stereotypical characters within it through movies, but even his limited knowledge was enough to know that Sam was the narcissistic jock to a T. Bragging about his muscles, now his hair, giving him those damn smirks, all just to show off as if he were—

Trying to flirt with him like he was one of the cheerleaders. Raiden’s expression surely twitched, but he tried to keep looking as normal and stoic as he could when he met Sam’s eyes and his ego with a quick comeback. "Trying real hard to prove how pretty you are to the pretty boy, aren’t you?"

"Pretty? No, I am handsome, there is the difference." Samuel wagged a finger, though that finally got him to stop flexing.

Ignorant of Raiden's inner monologue, he continued getting comfortable, arching his back in a stretch before settling further down on the couch with splayed legs. His fleece-lined sweatpants pulled into a tight triangle over his crotch before his thighs themselves filled out the fabric. Secure in the tent, he felt his generous flesh warm his inner thighs. This is how winters should be spent. Although it wasn't supposed to be winter right now, not based on what his southern-hemisphere brain told him.

Well, someone sure was getting comfortable, Raiden thought. The cyborg could hardly let himself get into a shamelessly comfortable position like that when he was alone, so he could hardly imagine doing it in the home of an almost stranger he’d gotten into several death matches with. Okay, maybe that meant they couldn’t exactly be strangers anymore, but still. Look at him, practically taking over the couch with those trunk-sized legs of his. Was he trying to make his groin obvious to the world, or was this just how he was?

Wait, what was he doing staring at Jetstream Sam’s groin? That was probably the more important question. Raiden made sure to cease that immediately. Jeez. It had just been too long since he’d shared personal space with a person in such a normal way. It was tripping him up.

"Speechless? Not going to tell me I'm not as hot as I think I am? Or did you walk so _slowly_ up the hill to World Marshall just to ogle me on all the big screens?" He took a very loud sip, honestly not noticing the intent of Raiden's gaze.

"No," Raiden replied with a frown. "I’m just trying to figure out why you want so badly to convince me you’re attractive." And why he was even going so far as to slurp his hot cocoa for attention. What a child.

Honestly, the cocoa tasted sweet and after living on a Desperado diet, after years of canned beans and rice before that, this was a tiny insulated heaven, even if the apartment was small. "Why are you trying so hard to think otherwise? Only a man unsure of his _machismo_ is so childish to ignore the charms of another man."

"So you are trying to charm me then?" Great. Just what he needed. Another maniac with an affinity for sharp blades coming onto him. Been to that long, black-haired rodeo before. And now Sam was even trying to attack his manhood. He thought the man was harder to predict than this. "I’m not ignoring your charms. I just have no interest in them."

"Completely straight?" Sam looked to the side to gauge Raiden's face.

Alright, now Sam was finally dropping the annoying attempts at flirtation at just asking him straight —pun not intended— so now Raiden wasn’t feeling a need to be so defensive in response. That deserved a straight answer, but… truth be told, he wasn’t sure if he even had enough experience to know if straight was the answer. The only person he’d ever been with was Rose. He knew he liked women for sure, but what was his stance on men? What sort of experiences did he have with them? There was Vamp. No way. There was Snake, but even when he was young, it wasn’t attraction he felt towards him, only admiration. And then there was Sam. He didn’t exactly get a boner from their fights, but maybe, as screwed up in the head as he was when it came to violence, maybe he was lucky enough to just not have the Ripper get tangled up in his sexuality as well. So what sort of answer did that leave him with?

Raiden could only look back at Sam and shrug. "Never really tested that out."

"Mm, that is a sad answer. A boy who has never had time to explore himself. There was always a mission, more training, a pull from above to direct you." Feeling more hot milk slide down his throat, Sam thought about the kind of life Raiden certainly had.

It was pathetic in the classic sense. He couldn't imagine being directed completely, or being broken so young. His own life had tragedies, but not like those that were printed on Desperado's intel report concerning Raiden. That damn company was the only thing that had pulled Sam's strings in his life, and only because he let it. Or he'd thought he let it. Maybe that's why he'd rushed into death. Let Raiden's blade finish him if that's where things lay, so that he could die with freedom. Raiden hadn't lived with Freedom.

Probably he was telling the absolute truth and did not know what his sexuality was. The soldier fighting for freedom around the world didn't even have freedom in his most private sphere. Samuel considered making a proposal, but looking at those pale blue eyes and lank hair darkened by too many days of oil, he got the feeling that would be predatory. Poke a boy in his weak spot and he might crumble to your will while thinking it was his choice. That was not freedom either.

Yet Raiden couldn’t help but prickle with anger at Sam’s response, so obviously full of pity while attempting to read into his own life. He didn’t need that. What was there to pity? So he hadn’t screwed a lot of people. So he didn’t know who else he was interested in screwing beside Rose. So what? He’d manage to procreate, so he’d completed the basic goal of any living creature. What other point was there to sex? A brief passing of bliss that can only make you forget everything else for just one second?

"What’s the point?" Raiden asked with a shrug. He crossed his arms and turned away from Sam, closing himself from the question entirely. Really, what was the point? What did it matter who else he was attracted to? The more important thing was who else would be attracted enough to him to want that sort of closeness with him. Rose made it crystal clear that no ordinary person would want to be with him unless it was their job.

"The point?" Sam looked away from his hot chocolate to study Raiden's current affect. While he'd been thinking about the tragedies of Raiden's past, maybe the boy had been reliving them. He seemed that defeated. Unhappiness sloughed off of him in his body language.

Sam hated an unfair fight. He could dig into his opponent's sexuality and nihilism, but it would be like stepping on a three legged lizard. Not even a fight. When Raiden covered his sadness with anger, that Sam could deal with. Determination, rage, vengeance, duty, even confusion put them on exhilarating equal footing. As Raiden rushed forward to disincorporate his limbs, Sam saw in his shining eyes the same fight he had. Fighting for justice in this unfair world, even if they were on opposite ends of the battlefield. They were like the same man fighting himself, and let their steel decide for them. There was _drive_ in that connection, spirit and life even as it flung itself into death. But to jump into the void and to fall in it are separate concerns. Raiden was slipping.

Thus the solution to getting back the Raiden he wanted to fight was as simple as it was counterintuitive. Sam put his hand next to Raiden's shoulder and asked, genuinely, "Are you all right?"

When it came to slipping, Raiden would argue that he fell in long ago. In fact, it was probably more accurate to say he was tossed straight into the void as a kid. He'd certainly come close to clawing his way out once or twice, but something always managed to kick him back down. 

The sudden touch from Sam finally snapped him from his melancholy. His shoulder tensed for a moment before he looked back to his company. Oh, he was doing that moping thing again. He wouldn't be having Sam as a guest again if he acted too much like a sad sack.

"Yeah. I'm fine." He tried to erase the frown from his face as he answered, wanting to be more convincing.

"I don't think you are. I come in here to drink your milk, and steal your blankets, and tease you about your sexuality, and instead of fighting, you look ready to die, Jack."

"You didn't steal anything. I offered it to you."

"Where is that fierce warrior who almost killed me, eh?" Sam's hand inched forward to give a very light punch to the shoulder near it. His human bone hit hard metal.

Jeez, do I really look that bad? Raiden asked himself. He hardly budged from the punch. Now he was feeling embarrassed. He really wasn't so great at keeping control of his expression, he supposed. He covered his peevishness with another manly shrug.

"A man can't keep up that kind of fight all the time. I pick my battles. Do you really want another fight already? After you lost the last one?" There, if he went back to teasing back, he'd sound alright again.

"Well I might win this time if you don't fight back," Samuel countered.

"Your juvenile teasing isn't a fight." Raiden waved his hand dismissively. "It just got me thinking too much."

"Where do you hide your sword then? My sword, even." That hand made contact with Raiden's shoulder again, letting touch muddle the meaning of the words.

"You really want a spar?" Raiden asked, glancing to that hand a moment before returning his gaze to Sam’s. "We’d have to take it outside. Do you really want to go at it out there in the snow?" That wouldn’t be so bad for Raiden, but he couldn’t imagine Sam liking that very much. "I can return your sword though."

Sam's eyes narrowed. No, he really didn't want to go outside, and the weight of the comforter around him was far superior to the frigid cold of this godforsaken city. There were better places for a fight, better places to find the ripper's sword. "I was thinking we could spar in— alright?" But then Raiden said he'd return his Murasama just like that?

"You sound surprised." Raiden finally began to grin again. "Did you really think I’d keep it forever? I don’t need it, and I don’t intend to keep a man from his prized weapon." He was already getting up to fetch it.

"Well, you... what, you don't treasure it as a trophy of my defeat? Do you dishonour me J a c k . . . ?" Samuel's head followed Raiden's retreating form out of view. He'd gone to another room, completely serious. And now, Sam was just a cold man with a half drunk cup of hot cocoa in his lap.

He sneezed. Embarrassing.

Raiden suddenly leaned out from a doorway down the hall. Jeez, what was Sam going on about? He had no interest in trophies or any form of memorabilia for the men he killed. "What, is it a greater insult for me to return it? Would you really prefer me to keep it, because I certainly can do that."

"Do what you want, Jack!" Samuel shouted back. "You're not a man who reads situations well at all!"

Here Raiden was trying to be nice and give back the man’s treasured possession, and he got insulted for it. He would argue that he can read situations just fine. It was only social ones where he faltered. He disappeared back into his room and shortly reappeared with the case he usually used for his own sword. It dropped into Sam’s widespread lap.

"Here you go, you ass."

The heavy case came down directly on three patches of delicate sensitive flesh, possibly five since Rodrigues' unarmoured legs weren't exactly used to having hunks of metal suddenly dropped on them from a few feet up. A hoarse and strangled choking sound blurbled up from Sam's throat while his face strained open. Even as he was trying not to react... tears welled at the corners of his eyes. Righty was trapped between thigh and case oh god it _hurt_. Samuel pushed the case forward and down toward his knees, then forced himself to smile up at Raiden despite faltering lips.

"Thank you, pretty boy."

As dumb and petty as it was, Raiden felt pretty satisfied by Sam’s reaction. He hadn’t meant to drop the whole thing on his nuts, but he couldn’t say he regretted it after the look he got on his face. He smirked. "No problem, asshole."

"You aimed it, didn't you?" Sam jabbed while fiddling with the locks on the case. Once it disengaged, the red of his family's sword shone out in the crisp cold air. The white room was nearly lit pink as the glossy walls reflected the proud spirit of the sword. It really was a beautiful blade, of perfect craftsmanship. Although it had been through many battles, including just one he hadn't seen. "She served you well when you killed the senator?"

"I didn’t target you, but that sword of yours did always have a way of hitting its mark." Raiden continued smiling as he looked at Sam’s new expression once he opened it up. He’d made sure to do a thorough job cleaning it off when its job was done. It was true that he did treat it like a trophy, but he never had any intention of displaying it. He only wanted to give it and the memory of the man attached to it the respect they both deserved. "Very well," he answered.

"I can see you took good care of her after she took good care of you." Sam nodded. He carefully lifted out the blade to feel its weight in his hands. It thrummed in response to his body. No technology locked him to the blade any more, but its heart sang with the blood of his ancestors, a song within their linked spirit. Already it felt warm in his hands. His poor abused leins shifted down out of harm's way as he sat forward. "Thank you again."

"You don’t have to thank me. I wanted to give her the treatment she deserved." He didn’t exactly have a habit of gendering his weapons, but he could tell that he didn’t have quite as deep of a connection to them as Sam did with his own. "It was the least I could do after borrowing it."

Of course, in Samuel's family, the sword had always been the Lady of the House, passed down the Japanese side of his mother. She was a strong and indomitable blade, and red as a woman's blood. She had aged over time just like a lady too. From her origins under the swordsmith Murasama, thus her name, where she rose from this ten thousand leaf pounding, to her handle's recasting after taking gunfire in WWII, to her high tech update in recent years, each change made her look older, and more of the distinguished Duchess she was. And better than any male blade, she let anyone wield her, whether it be Raiden, or Sam's mother, or Sam himself who sometimes felt unworthy. He still was not as talented in swordsmanship as his mother or father. This sword was as red as their blood when it dripped down the jacaranda steps of the house...

"I think I willed it to you, if I died, or so I told Wolfy. Not that I ended up dying. In the long run." Murasama slid back inside; the case closed back up with a deep click. Samuel leant back. The cup balancing between his thigh wiggled until he caught it with a palm over its top. With keen enough eyes to catch any signs of movement, Raiden most definitely noticed the way that cup wiggled. Odd, but he dismissed it as nothing in the next second. 

"Still. I knew it’s what you wanted." Raiden could only wish there was such a rich tapestry of family history woven into his own blade, but even his personal history of it was shallow. It wasn’t lovingly passed down to him, and he wasn’t taught to use it from a young age. No, it was just the weapon he had to use when there was nothing else in reach, and then he just forged his own attachment to it. Without his own culture and bloodline and without a gentle and wise ancestor to teach him about it, Raiden had to learn —no, maybe it was only stealing— from another culture entirely from the only thing in his life that could offer him anything near the comfort of a grandparent: movies.

"That's the honour I thought I saw in you."

"Well I’m glad not to disappoint."

"Are you going to stand up there all day, or get comfortable again? Unless you really are that uncomfortable nest to a man." Banter could return with the sword, things as they should be. Although he was not convinced that Raiden was "okay" in any sense, pressing it wasn't going to improve either of them. Blondie had been standing like a grim statue for an odd amount of time now. The man quickly corrected that by retaking his place on his couch.

"I’ve gotten much more uncomfortably close with other men to be afraid of just sharing a couch with one. Especially you."

"So, is that an admission?" Sam patted the couch seat right next to himself.

"To what?" Raiden allowed himself to scoot a little closer, at Sam’s prompting.

"To being intimate with a man." Aaaand wait for reaction in 3 2 1...

"Absolutely not. I mean, not in the way you mean, the way intimacy is supposed." Raiden had to think of Vamp again and their encounters, and he felt like they had to be considered intimate in the worst possible way. After all, there was definitely a meeting of hips between them. It was just a sword doing actual bodily penetration instead of, you know. He frowned. "I’ve dealt with men who sure acted like they wanted intimacy."

"And does it make you uncomfortable? Are you put off by it? Or does the closeness of another body, especially in battle, rouse your blood? Can you feel the adrenaline prepare you to be the victor in all things? To take what you desire for the sheer pleasure of it?"

"See, that’s the thing. These men probably wanted to stab me as much as they wanted to fuck me, so it’s not exactly a good example to gauge my reaction. Whatever …thrills I get from battle, they’re not linked with arousal, and I’m thankful for that. However close I get to someone in battle won’t make me feel the same way as being close to someone in a bed."

It was beginning to sound like that wasn’t the case for Sam though. Still, Raiden baring his internal philosophy on the matter helped to analyse him, but also let him distance himself from the sticking point. He thought about what other people wanted from him. What other people would do to him. A removal of self.

"What about a couch?" It was time to be a bit more overt.

"Well, so far …I’ve enjoyed it." And that was the honest truth, but he wasn’t so sure if there was any actual attraction at play or if he was just happy to share a friendly sort of closeness with another person again. "If you really want me to be honest, I guess I’ve… missed this."

Sam chuckled, more of the analysis fitting into place. "You really mean being close to someone don't you?" He tried to look Raiden in the eyes, his deep brown irises shining out from eyes that could have been black. "You miss being physically close to anyone: no battle, no strings attached, no expectations."

Raiden sighed, upset at being so easy to read. "There’s always strings. Expectations. Motives. Something. Human interaction is never that simple."

"I like being out of the cold. I like having my sword back. I like having someone to talk to. I can't seem to escape nihilism in my conversation partners but —ehn." He shrugged. "We could work on that. You're not Desperado. You're not Maverick either, are you?"

He shook his head. "Not anymore. I’m back on my own again."

"Any plans?" Samuel finished off his cocoa before setting the cup down on the floor.

"I’ll go where I’m needed and do what I can to make the world safer." So no, he didn’t have a specific and concrete plan yet. "And I’ll… I’ll visit my son when I get the chance." He felt pretty low admitting that, not because he begrudged seeing John. No, quite the opposite. Seeing his boy was the one guaranteed source of joy in his life, but it came with a price. It meant having to face his mother again. He needed to build up quite a lot of mental fortitude to do that, so even if he wasn’t in the middle of a mission, he could be scared out of seeing his own child by an ordinary woman who broke his heart.

The worst part about it was that it wasn’t even the pain of seeing her again that he was afraid of. It was the longing. It was knowing that seeing her face wouldn’t remind him of how she hurt him, but of how much he’d loved her. Missed her. Needed her. And knowing that maybe she still might love him too only made it worse. Every time he saw her, he feared that he might give in and start their terrible cycle all over again. Memories of her were so dangerous because they made him think living a lie was worth feeling loved.

"Visit him? You mean he is not at school right now?" Sam's spine straightened in shock, pulling his body up to display its size out of an instinct. It was an instinct to protect that he didn't quite understand happening right then.

But his mind was ahead of him. He knew Raiden had a son, and a wife, and the files had said that his commitment to his family was a sure-fire way to affect his behaviour based on past missions. Thus, Sam's attempt at psychological manipulation in Denver, appealing to his enemy's empathy for men who also had families. That had backfired thanks to the Ripper but still. He'd assumed that wherever Raiden was, his child and wife would be. He'd assumed he was sitting in this living room on borrowed time before one of them came home.

Then things had clicked in a moment: the emptiness of the apartment, no sign of a child's mess, only one hook by the door for coat or umbrella, the empty fridge. He'd rationalised it before: wife at work and child at school, one of the parents is a neat freak, maybe they hang their coats on doorframes and open umbrellas to dry, and maybe today was shopping day to get more food. But no. This was an empty bachelor pad for a married man who obviously loved his absent child. 

Samuel had been unaware of this aspect of Raiden's life. Just one more tragedy to throw on the pile. It stirred his indignation. It made him want to right things, like he'd dealt with the mob and the favelas in Brazil. He wanted to see children smile, not suffer. Raiden was such a boy, too. He wasn't a child but his life... needed to be protected, and the tiny rudimentary lobe in Sam's brain had straightened his spine in anticipation of fighting for that purpose.

Raiden couldn’t help but lean slightly away from Sam in response to that physical change. He wasn’t sure what to make of the reaction. Was it anger, knowing that he wasn’t very prominent in his own son’s life? Was it surprise that he even had a kid at all? He couldn’t tell for sure, yet he kept talking anyway.

"I’m pretty sure he just recently returned to school after their summer break." That was a pretty clear hint that his son was far from Denver.

"Why aren't you with him? And your wife, Rosa?" Samuel pestered, trying to make sense of the situation.

Raiden took a deep breath. "Because they aren’t safe with me." It was the vaguest explanation he could give, but the truth was that just about any way that could be interpreted was correct. His mouth tightened before he admitted one last thing. "And she’s not my wife anymore."

Brows brought together almost into one, Samuel considered this, thinking out loud, "According to your file you had separated once before, as she reported you were binge drinking, but, but your body now cannot binge on alcohol any more than mine can on oil. How are they unsafe? Being around you, with your strength, and all of your ever so high ideals: that is the safest they could be!" Of course, he'd admitted he'd read a file, and he'd opened up a can of worms, and he'd be the one this time to misread situations.

Raiden’s eyes focused back on Sam’s a clear frown back on his face. According to his _what_ now? "My file?" What file? Back in Manhattan, he was told he didn’t even exist on any official records. Where would any file about him come from? Now he was leaning much closer to his guest. "Where did you get this file?"

"Desperado had a file on you, since we crossed ways in Africa. Where they got it? Spies, probably. The senator's money got many things for us. It was a collection of interviews, then made shorter, from people who survived contact with you, and friends of your wife. It seemed to me that someone wanted you dead if there was this much out there." Official records had he none, but Raiden's unofficial record and blackmail record was sure to exist.

An angry snort of air came from the cyborg's nose as he backed off to think this all over. Spies. People who came in contact with him. Friends of his wife. Was it just her friends, or was Rose herself responsible for that file? That was the whole reason she’d met him anyway, so was it so farfetched to think she contributed what she learned to him to this file? 

"It doesn’t matter how strong I am," he spoke up, responding now to what Sam had said before. "Being able to fight off danger isn’t what’s important, it’s keeping danger from finding him in the first place. It’s me they’re after, so the right thing to do is lead them far away from him." It still stung to know that Sam was so privy on that breakdown of his that happened after the Manhattan Incident. "And just because I’m not drinking anymore doesn’t make me Dad of the Year material either. I’ve tried time and time again to settle into a normal life. Play the expected husband and father role. Work a regular 9-5 and come home to a house in the suburbs kind of life. It never works."

"Maybe." Samuel didn't exactly know what to say to that. He could say maybe Raiden should try again, or maybe it wasn't Raiden's fault, or maybe Raiden was right. But he didn't know the truth. And, furthermore, maybe he could actually stay the night for real without dealing with the family. What a selfish thought. "But if you want your son to love you, he should know you. According to the file—" Sam grimaced to say 'sorry for bringing that up again' with his face, "when you are not around, your wife hires many nannies. Long hours at her place of work, which was on the file." Another sorry grimace. "And I was not employed to analyze her, but..."

"But did you?" Raiden scoffed, "I’d love to hear what you gathered about dear Rosemary." That was a little more biter than he’d meant to sound, but the sad thing was that there was not a very small part of him that was genuinely curious about how she was doing.

"I know you care for her, or I thought so based on— but—" Sam's tone grew more level, like breaking the news of a dead fish to a child, "I do not think she cares for you in the same way. And I do not think she is a good mother. She uses your child like a, mm, casino chip, and she runs you around. She dresses him like a doll. And you know, your names, even those are similar, a way to force you to identify with the family as a whole. I knew _una avîta_ like that, three grandkids, and she always asks them, what will you do for me, why do you act this way to hurt me, even when they fall from a tree and one broke her leg, _la avó_ said now I have to pay to take you to hospital and now I have to go through the pain of a grandchild with a broken leg. Because for her it is a nuisance, when she could be busy with church work, or at the salon. But she would never part with the children because then she could not use them to look perfect. How hard it is on _her_ , for Cora's avîta and for your Rosita. That is what I think."

Raiden listened to everything Sam had to say, and it was obvious that he wasn’t liking what he was hearing. Was it all true? How could he know that she was treating John this way? he wanted to not believe him, to tell him that Rose loved John too and that she only wanted the best for him, but the way he spoke of that grandmother reminded him so much of conversations he had with Rose. How hard it was for her to play a part and make him fall in love with something that wasn’t real. To be with him while he was breaking down. To tell him his child was dead and then start a fake marriage with a friend. He started to put his head in his hands.

"What could I do anyway?" he asked. "Even if it’s all true, that doesn’t mean I’m any better for him. I don’t know the first thing about being a good father. I don’t have any example to follow. More importantly, I’m not…stable. I’m not fit to fully support another human being that depends on me for everything. I know he wants to know me, but…he can’t. The less he knows, the better. I’m just… All I would do is hurt him."

Not one to completely know how to comfort people himself, Sam held Raiden's knee with a bold hand. He wanted to be steady and firm as Raiden's mood tumbled down. "Don't you think he deserves to know you how you really are? If you're not there, all he can know is what your wife, ex-wife, tells him. I do not think they are good things. It's not whether you deserve your son. It's whether he needs you." And this was all well and good and easy for Sam to say when he sure didn't have any kids.

"How I really am?!" Raiden suddenly lifted his head and turned it back to Sam. "You know how I really am! You saw it! You think I can ever show that to my son!?" He leaned one elbow over his thigh, right by Sam’s hand, and put his face back into his own, and yet he was still making no actual attempt to shake him off. "I’d lose him forever."

"Oh that?" Samuel's words came out drawled. "Jack the Ripper? We were lying. Of course we were lying." His grip tightened momentarily. He leant forward, trying to place his face near Raiden's, to break into his zone of despair. "That's not the real you. It is a person created in your past and drawn out now by... by people who don't even deserve to be called monsters. Like me." He removed his hand, somewhat ashamed of himself. To win a fight, it had been fair and good. To add into discussion of parenting, it was a sin. Of course the boy shouldn't think of his father as a mass murderer when that was Raiden as a tool, not as a human. "You are a much better man."

It was definitely comforting to hear someone think he was better than that. Raiden just couldn’t know if it was true. He shook his head. "Real me or not, it’s there, and that’s enough to make me dangerous." And if he wasn’t dangerous, then he was most certainly and undeniably broken. Still unfit to be the parent John deserved. He was aware of Sam leaning closer to him but still unable to look at him again. However, when that hand moved away from him, Raiden was quick to grab it and put it back. Even if it wasn’t enough to keep him from falling apart, that little contact still felt better than being without it.

Catching his breath when his hand was snatched back, Sam forced himself to calm down, and lend another squeeze to the knee. The metal, ceramic, and plastic had no give underneath. But he was certain that some sensors could pick up the touch, maybe even the warmth.

"Many things are dangerous, but we live with them anyway. Fire, dogs, your sword. Man's will is the most dangerous of all, but it is also the easiest to calm. We may have little control over a fire when it catches a curtain, or a mad dog, or a sword slipping from our hand to our open flank, but every person has the capacity to cage and soothe his own evil until only good remains. Even anger can be good, when held for righteousness. That is how you always fight, no? It is good that pushes you forward, when you choose to do things. Not being led." A second hand joined the first. "That is what Wolfie told me, that you chose to fight for liberty, righteousness, the safety of others. He did not understand, but I do."

Once again, Raiden listened to Sam’s every word, and, miraculously, they managed to soothe him along with that continued gentle touch. Soon he was able to steady himself with a deep breath. "Blade Wolf told you that, huh?" Seemed he made a good impression on the metal mutt. He was thankful for that. He finally had the courage to look at Sam again, and he offered him a small smile. 

"Thank you. I need that sometimes," Raiden said. He felt like he should apologize as well. Here he was, trying to be a good host, and he was making his guest be his therapist.

"Ah, then you need someone who can give it to you more often," Sam said under dark eyes and a bowed head. He felt his face come closer to Raiden's until his wild curled hair touched Raiden's stark blonde side locks. He felt heat between them, and need. Though perhaps it was all in his head. All Raiden could give in response was a sheepish little grunt, afraid to look weak by confirming Sam’s assertion but not wanting to discourage him from saying more kind words either. He was definitely away of how close they were now. His skin, the small amount of natural stuff still left on his face, prickled where Sam’s hair just barely brushed over it, and he could feel it growing warmer. Sam could see his pale face bloom with colour that cut off at the outline of his lower jaw. 

Then Sam's codec went off so loud in his brain he was certain that the pin-silent room could have carried the sound. Horrible timing. So, since the situation was fine with him sitting there, he talked in his head as quickly as possible while maintaining a supportive closeness. _I found a better place to stay tonight... Somewhere safe... No, I'm not, but I will be there for the surgery. Understood, out._

Sitting in the comfort of his own couch, next to a man who had once been his enemy, and then his victim, Raiden felt no need to pull away. But their close proximity made him able to sense the almost imperceptible amount Sam suddenly tensed up when his codec went off. Of course, Raiden didn’t immediately guess it was a call that was alarming him. Assuming it was just due to discomfort, projecting his own insecurities about why the hell the two of them were so close, he began to lean back.

"Sorry," Raiden muttered. "Don’t really know what about you has gotten me so… emotional."

Sam paused for a bit too long before answering and leaning forward to chase Raiden's face. Not as close as before, but with a sense of personal space distinctly separate from Raiden's. He cursed inwardly at letting anything get in between whatever had been happening. What _had_ been happening? Was he trying to kiss Raiden? Why would he do that? He's a prettyboy, yes, a pretty boy, and his soul burned well on the battlefield, but... Why languish in admonition? One night stands had been born out of flimsier excuses than that.

"It's fine to be emotional. You don't have to act like a cold American man," Rodrigues murmured on the line between teasing and honest reproach.

"Of course I do," Raiden replied, "it’s what I am." He attempted a smirk to tell that he was only being half-serious. Truth be told, that was pretty close to the type of persona he’d tried to emulate ever since meeting the one man he felt he could truly look up to. He just wasn’t always so good at being the cool, steel-hearted hero. Right now he knew he was doing a terrible job of it.

If Sam still wanted to be nice and close, Raiden wouldn’t retreat this time. He still only had enough nerve to look Sam in the eyes for brief seconds, and right now, he was looking more at his hands. Though he was well aware that they were still drifting towards dangerous, less-than-innocent territory, Raiden still couldn’t tell if he was just trying to be extra supportive or looking for an opening to make some sort of mood. They were tiptoeing on the border between friendship and, well, something more, and Raiden didn’t have the courage to take the step from one side to the other. If Sam wanted to lead him across, would he be more willing to follow?

Sam's hands crept forward to touch Raiden's body. Despite being made of glass and steel and ceramic and hidden green circuit boards, he was warm. Sam smiled —not a smirk, a smile. "You seem warm to me."

Oh. Sam actually looked rather nice when he was giving a real smile. Raiden hunched up his shoulders, feeling pathetically sigh from that and the gentle touch but not wanting to tell him to stop. "Yeah?" Come on. Think of something witty and charming to say back. "Well... you're warmer." 

Ugh, I'm such a node, Raiden thought. But a cute nerd, Sam's brain supplied concurrently, especially hiding behind words, as is his wont. Sam chuckled. The only way to counter dorky come-ons was with even worse ones.

"Are you trying to tell me... I'm hot?"

Was he? Was Sam hot, or was he trying to say so? Well, even from an objective standpoint, Sam was pretty handsome. But was Raiden actually attracted to him? He had to figure his out the only way he knew how. If Sam tried to kiss him now, would he be okay with it?

After careful consideration, the answer he determined was... yes. 

"I think so," he replied. "But half of that may just be from all the hot air."

Suddenly Sam's forehead met Raiden's shoulder. Behind bouncing black hair, real and large muscles were heaving under the blanket to the tune of his laughter. "Ah, I cannot decide if you are hitting on me or not, prettyboy."

Yes, he got a laugh. Now he was doing better. Raiden was beginning to grin with him. "I'm trying to figure out how I can do it without feeding into that ego again," he admitted. "And what about you?"

Sam's shoulders stilled. His face rose. "I was only trying to make you smile."

What maddeningly true words.

"Oh." Was Sam only trying to be nice? Was he greatly misreading this situation the whole time? Well, now Raiden felt pretty stupid. The original portion of his face lit up an even darker red. "Well, mission accomplished, I suppose."

Finally Sam noticed that Raiden was blushing, honest to his mother's heart. "You're cute when you smile. It's the kind of smile anyone could fall for."

That sure brought his smile back at full force. Raiden bowed his head at began reaching under the silver blonde crop of hair at the back of his head. "Ah, well, I’m not so sure about that." He wasn’t a stranger to being considered handsome, but it was still a surprise that so many people still thought so after everything.

Leaning so that his whole arm touched Raiden's and slightly caged him into the corner of the couch where he'd fled, Sam continued speaking from the heart and from the nether. To be honest. "You should be sure. Vanity can be ugly, but pride never so. You are a handsome man at your best, with a face from heaven. And your new body was definitely not a step down either. Very good to look at." He took the liberty of tapping at Raiden's chest. The sound was unfortunately hollow.

Even if he was trapped, Raiden felt no danger with having Sam moving so close and touching him. It was his words, not his body, that made him want to squirm. He was never good at handling compliments, and the ones Sam gave him sounded too poetic than anything he deserved. It felt like he was trying to make Raiden swoon, but the compliments sounded completely sincere. 

Raiden had to fight the urge to fidget more out of shyness. His limited contact with people really had turned him into an awkward mess. "From heaven, huh?" he repeated while keeping his eyes off of Sam, afraid of the sort of look he was giving him now. He didn’t even have it in him to argue against what he was saying.

"No one has ever called you angelic before?" Sam's fingers tapped further up to Raiden's collarbone lightly before his whole palm stayed there at rest. His upper body tilted toward his night's host, face approaching dangerously again. Part of it was his upbringing, being unafraid to close in during conversations, and part of it was a simple wish to invade the space of this poor, lonely, hot, almost divorcé.

"No," Raiden quickly replied, his shoulders reflexively tensing up as they were touched. It was impossible to keep his eyes away from Sam’s face now, and he was right to be afraid before. He was trying to look too deep into him. "Quite the opposite, actually. They called me White Devil."

Sam let his fingers trail slowly up Raiden's neck as a cover for thinking very carefully about what he said next. Bringing up Raiden's past was obviously going to be the biggest cock block possible in this context. He decided to test the limits of his touch, running a thumb over Raiden's chin. He was feeling out, so to say, the situation. "Tonight, you have been an angel to me."

Raiden let out the smallest breath. His first instinct was not to move away from Sam’s fingers, but to tilt his head so they might have better access to his neck. Thanks to modifications he received after the World Marshall Incident, everything from the neck up looked and felt almost human again. "I’m only trying to… return the favour." Speaking was becoming a bit of a struggle when his mind was so focused on those fingers moving over sensitive areas. "You saved my ass before."

When Sam reached his chin, the cyborg's jaw briefly dropped the slightest bit. This was going unexpectedly smoothly. Raiden's reactions to his touch were mesmerising and filling Sam with hunger. He'd assumed that Raiden would feel very little considering how much of his body was synthetic and made for war. But here, on the parts of him that remained human (for all Sam knew), Raiden was more sensitive than a cat's whiskers brushing past a mouse. And Sam wanted to pounce.

Despite the purpose of his body being made to fight, Raiden always had access to all five senses. The only difference was that he could shut any of them off at his request, and they were a bit dulled compared to what they used to be. Right, now, his sense of touch was more awake and alive than he’d felt in a while.

He could so clearly remember doing this to Rose many times-running his thumb over her bottom lip and marvelling at its softness before he let himself kiss it. It always made her shiver, and now he could understand why. Dammit, no, he couldn’t allow himself to think of her now. She was gone, and Sam was here.

"Would you hate me," Sam asked as his thumb wet itself on Raiden's lower lip, back and forth, soft and smooth, "if I wanted your ass? Or mine?"

Rose was gone, and Sam was here, and he wanted to _what?!_

"My _what_?" Raiden pulled away so he could better look directly at Sam, a clear grimace on his face. Maybe it wasn’t so wise to go straight to suggesting anallingus with a man who was too inexperienced to even know if he liked men.

"What?" Sam quirked an eyebrow and a smile to cover up his racing internal admonitions. He'd pushed too far? Raiden had seemed into it though? He seemed Bi???? "The ass, the vagània if you prefer, mutual pleasure. I offer it to you, but if I've read the situation wrong..." He withdrew his hands, holding them up like a bank robber while burning his gaze at those soft wet lips that had seemed so ready for him.

Oh, he’d overreacted, and now Sam felt uneasy. Raiden shook his head, rubbing a hand over his forehead. "No, I mean, I just…" His mouth tightened. He was an idiot. Between two men, there wasn’t a vagina, but he’d never cared enough to think what two mean might do when they made love to think of what was used instead. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to admit just how ignorant about sex he really was. But if Sam wanted his ass or whatever in return, now might be the time to tell him something important. "I don’t have an ass. I mean, you know… a hole. There. Anymore."

"Do you have—" The words stumbled out of Sam's mouth before he tried to pull them back in. It seemed like it was sex negotiation time, and he was quite ready to do so with gusto. But last time, with a simple come-on, things had taken two steps back, so he decided to hedge his bets. "There must be other ways, if you're 'open' to the idea."

"I mean…" Raiden may have been hilariously uninformed about homosexual sex, but at least he had enough heterosexual sex under his belt to know all the basic forms of it and what body parts could be of use. "I have my hands. And my mouth. That’s about it." Only one part of Sam was cybernetic, so he was probably all set. "I’m sure I can at least… you know. Please you." Damn it, Sam charmed him so quickly, he already offering to use his hands and mouth on his cock. Lord, but he’s never even touched one besides his own in his entire life. Was this a good idea? Was it what he wanted? He wasn’t so sure if he was aroused by the idea of touching Sam, but he was definitely, well, curious. That was probably the right word for it. He was curious to see how he’d react to it.

Thus, Raiden had beaten Rodrigues to the negotiating phase. The man could have salivated. Although Raiden's limitations put a serious damper on his initial plan. The initial plan included riding Raiden until he came at least twice that night and then playing that into 'can I maybe stay here longer?' and then maybe playing that into something more sustainable. Sam wasn't in love, and he wasn't looking to settle down, but among his list of life options, Raiden ranked highly and wasn't bad to look at or listen to. At the present moment, Sam was feeling turned on by Raiden's tone and shifting eyes. Such an untouched flower, despite the wife and child. Had he ever lived for pleasure? Sam desired to bring the boy's bud to full bloom.

"I have a unique situation as well, to be honest," Sam said, tentatively laying his left hand back on Raiden's thigh. In this stage of negotiations, he had to gauge how much information to reveal.

Raiden would have argued, with blushing cheeks and huffing voice, that he was most certainly not some untouched virgin. It had just. Been a while, is all. The part about not living for pleasure, however, that he couldn’t argue against. That sort of mentality had lasted only briefly in his life. 

"That so?" Now Raiden was pretty curious in the more familiar way. What could his situation be? Did he have a cybernetic setup after all? Was he missing something too? He didn’t resist the hand on his thigh as he focused back on Sam with a quirked eyebrow. "You may as well tell me now. I don’t think it’d be good for me to get any sort of surprise when you strip down."

"Well, there is the pussy," Sam led with. His free hand wheeled in the air before finally resting on the couch back nest to Raiden's shoulder. His voice dropped a bit lower. "You have experience with those."

His brows raised a bit. "Oh…you have…" His sentence trailed off. Was he born with it, or was it something installed later on? That was the question. But Raiden got a sense there was another question he should ask. He squinted a bit. "You say that like that’s not the only thing."

"It's the only thing that should matter to you. Don't worry, there's no penis for you to worry about. Hardly even gay at this point, no?" Sam tried a smile, caught between smarmy and genuine.

No penis, huh? Sam was obviously hiding something from Raiden, but if he insisted that he only needed to worry about a vagina, he wasn’t going to press the issue. That was, at least, something he knew how to work with. "Pretty sure it’s still gay, but at least I’ll know what I’m doing." His own smile was beginning to come back as well. "So…I guess we should move to my room then?"

Oh wow, Raiden was being forward now. Sam actually felt heat rising to his face and chest while he tried not to tremble below. Was this actually just a tactic? Were things progressing too smoothly? Or was Raiden so fed up with his life that he didn't really care? It didn't really matter.

"I was planning to sheathe your sword right here on the couch, but a bed? A bed is better." Sam ran his arms around Raiden's shoulders for a brief soft kiss. He drew back, blinked his dark eyes, then sidled up on his legs. Upon standing, he was hit by the cold of the room again, and now more eager than ever to get to a bed. Although it surely helped him shrink and tuck away in other areas.

Raiden had to snort at that innuendo. He was about to make a reply about making stupid jokes or being eager enough to fuck him anywhere, but Sam cut him right off with that kiss, and whatever words he had were stolen. Ah. It had been a while. That felt really nice. Sam could kiss just as gently as Rose ever could.

"Well, ah," he began while he turned his eyes to the floor and wetted his lips. After a moment, he finally stood up after. "Over here." He moved passed Sam to lead him to the closed door of his bedroom, as if no one could find it in such a small apartment. 


	2. All of the beautiful bodies.

As it turned out, the bedroom he had now was nearly as Spartan as his old one in New York. Raiden just didn’t care enough to hide it anymore. There were a few more pieces of furniture in this one, at least, but the biggest difference was that this had actual decoration in the form of framed pictures on top of his dressers and desk. If Sam took the time to look at them, he’d see the familiar faces of his wife and child, with one picture in particular showing the whole family together. There were other faces that he may not recognize, like that of a young girl who looked like she could be John’s sister standing alongside two men, one looking old enough to be her grandfather.

Walking into the room, Sam took it all in, as much as there was. The uninspired bed, the chair, the closet doors that probably hid three suits at most, and then the pictures. He'd seen Rosemary and the boy before. Everyone else, not so much. But Raiden looked happy with the two strangers. His sex drive warred with his curiosity while his palms ran over his biceps. If asked, he flexed to make his pecs look bigger. Truth: warming himself up. He probably stared at the photos a bit too long before returning his attention to Raiden. That's where the action was to be sure. But later, he'd have to ask why Raiden's sister wasn't in his file. That would have been good blackmail material. Back when Sam did blackmail, a week ago.

Only a week? Unimaginable. He'd never been in this to hurt Raiden, though. Slipping forward onto the man's bed ready to bang him wasn't a gigantic change in his life outlook. Job's over; no need to stop the lightning-bolt to protect a piece of shit company that had him by the long and twisties; Raiden's just another man, and one with a very pretty face. That man, standing over his bed, with lips that needed to be kissed again...

As they stepped into the room, Raiden tried to focus his eyes on their destination, the bed, rather than the loved ones who were gone in one way or another or behind him to see the look on Sam’s face as he took everything in. He knew he had to be looking, especially at those pictures, and in his mind he prepared answers for the sort of questions he’d likely want to ask. When the questions never came, Raiden figured Sam was deciding to just keep them to himself and get on with this. He sat down on the edge of his bed and began peeling off his clothes without a word to reveal the rest of his metal body.

"Looking very good, _formoso_ ," Sam said appreciatively. There certainly wasn't anything downstairs to work with, but the engineering and design of that body was truly magnificent. It spoke of art and style beyond its deadly function. This was a body meant to replace flesh with new beauty, a body to be proud to inhabit. This wasn't like Sam's ultimately utilitarian right arm. He wasn't an engineer, but he could place the function of his cables, routers, and pull-blocks, and how the plates rotated against one another. But Raiden's body had connections, sculptures, textures, and superfluous materials to make any museum patron blush. The face covered in skin above it, whether it was still real skin or synth-flesh, sat atop it like the mythical gold and ruby capstone on a polished white pyramid.

If Raiden knew what Sam thought of his body, he’d laugh. For now, he gave him a smirk back. His body was a marvel of engineering, sure. The good Doktor had certainly put a lot of time and effort into it. He’d never call himself a work of art. He kept the robotic body because it served better for what he wanted to do. The fully flesh-covered one fell just a little too far down the uncanny valley. Synthetic skin was just too flawless. It made him look more like a doll. At least like this, he could feel intimidating, though the metal jaw was a bit much for everyday life. Limbs could be covered by sleeves and pants, hands by gloves. The jaw and teeth was just too unnerving to the average person, so he’d done away with it despite John insisting it made him look so cool.

Oh, but there was something far more interesting than his own body in store. Now he was going to see Sam without that suit of his. He felt that same sort of curiosity as he wondered what his nude body might look like, and he waited quietly for him to follow suit. It wasn't like Raiden had much to remove, and nor was Sam overly burdened with clothes to denude himself. The problem was, well, Raiden had hit it on the head that his guest had a lot to hide. And his options for hiding things were dwindling.

Sam opted to make the strip show as slow as possible. He pulled his shirt up with crossed arms instead of ripping it over his head by the collar Slowly the grey fabric rose over his dark chiselled abs, brushing over a rising V of hair that broadened over his chest. He was proud of all of it just like the hair on his face, stuck at one tantalising length that curled into the soft zone if left unshaven. The shirt then rose past his clavicle and somehow hairless armpits to where it covered his face. With a quick snap, he threw it off himself, and his long brown-black hair whipped around his neck and chin. With hips swinging under his sweatpants, he advanced to the bed next to Raiden. He sat down, body heavy from sheer muscle mass instead of metal. One could almost feel sorry for the mattress.

Thumbs tucked under the hem of his pants, he pulled them down until the hourglass of abdominal hair completed its design on his skin. The pants still covered his crotch, but his palms ran underneath the semi-fleece fabric next to cup his own buns. Turning to the side, he slid the back of his pants down more. Raiden could get a full view of his massive back, his full ass, and his asshole, as they came into view when his hands spread aside like theatre curtains. Only just hidden, dark lips glistened with the beginnings of desire below.

"Like what you see too?" Rodrigues rumbled.

Raiden hadn’t been expecting him to make a show of it, but this was Sam, so that was really a dumb misjudgement on his part. As Sam exposed himself, it became clear that Raiden had seen 90% of what was in store for him long before today, including that view of his ass. That suit of his already showed nearly every muscle, every nook and cranny of his body. All he saw that was new this time was pretty much just the hair and skin. He did have a nice tan to his skin, but the hair wasn’t exactly doing anything for him. His ass… well, that he wasn’t sure about. It didn’t turn him off, per se, but he wasn’t feeling all that excited looking at it. He thought maybe that was just because his sex drive was totally out of whack without a dick any more, but then he caught that glimpse of wet pussy lips. Dick or no dick, that had Raiden’s attention.

There was something else on his mind that was distracting him from fully appreciating the show, though. Even though he told himself he wouldn’t worry about it any more, Raiden couldn’t help but notice the way Sam moved. He knew it was a very deliberate attempt at hiding his groin. Now it was really starting to make him wonder.

"I do," Raiden finally answered. "But I’m a little more curious about what I’m not seeing."

"Mmm, I want you to eat me out. I can keep the rest of me warm, can't I?" Samuel offered the worst excuse in the entire world.

"And you plan on making me put my face in your ass to do it from behind?" He said that like he wasn’t interested, but his hand was already going for the smooth flesh and sliding beneath it to reach for that pussy. "Isn’t it a little unfair that you got to read a file detailing all the dirty secrets of my life, but you can’t tell me this one?"

A shiver ran up Sam's spine and in through his thighs. That was sudden and unfair. He clenched his teeth and swallowed to stop from making a sound. That became increasingly hard at Raiden's touch. He really... he really did know his way around some labia. "I don't want... to startle you..."

"Startle me?" Raiden repeated while his fingers kept on idly exploring Sam’s pussy to reacquaint himself with the area in general. He was definitely feeling more into this as he felt those big thighs below tremble the slightest bit. "Sam, I’ve seen a lot of things. If you can hide whatever you’ve got going on now, I don’t think it’s gonna be enough to really surprise me at this point."

Embarrassingly light whimpers of "oh" managed to slip out twice as Raiden's fingers continued to work alongside a voice that... had it always been so handsome? Sam was certain that he'd been chaste for far too long. Cold metal was quickly heating up between his legs as it worked against him and that was far too good. He was supposed to be seductive one according to plan, and now, but, yet, oh who cares? He crawled forward away from those wonderful fingers. He managed only to drop down on the bed and onto his back thanks to a last shuffling throb from inside of him. He was clenching between his legs so hard. He lowered he pants past his socks then threw them at his shirt on the floor. He spread his legs.

It didn't look right. There was another V of hair there like on a woman, but it was far neater despite not looking shaved. Down near the bottom, there was just smooth skin curving over what might have been a grundle in the past. Sort of tucked into its own set of skin flaps. Then, a really normal looking pussy. Labia majora, minora, clitoral hood, mucus coming out of an excited and open hole, the works. As he felt Raiden's gaze like fingers on his body, Sam's insides literally churned.

Raiden looked over what was revealed, and… he wasn’t entirely sure what to make of it. All he could figure out was that it wasn’t a natural set up. "What is it?" he finally asked.

"You're not immediately repulsed?" That was so deprecatingly funny, Sam chuckled. Then shrugged with his entire upper body, face downcast for a moment. "I'm not human, maybe. Less human than you, even."

Raiden frowned. That didn’t make sense. "How is that? You look plenty human to me."

Sam huffed. He crossed his arms. He whacked his feet together uncomfortably. Story of Raiden's life: someone he'd have sex with acting like Raiden's confusion inconveniences them. "Fine, if we must."

Then the hairless bulge unfurled. No other word for it. Three octopus arms rolled out of their comfy storage sheath. The one in the middle nervously coiled at its end. The tentacles had soft nubs on their underside, while the top skin looked smooth, and a bit moist from its environment. They seemed stiffer at the base, and while unfurling a darker coloured sac had flashed into view. Towards the tips, the tentacles darkened like lips and nips would. They weren't gigantic, but they weren't like fingers either. Considered as a bundle they were probably three flaccid cocks thick, and a tapering two cocks long, maybe a bit more on the central one. It would be an adventure fitting it all inside, if that even happened in Raiden's lifetime, when running or slicing might have seemed more sane options to another man. Then again, everything looked bigger when it was a surprise.

"Whoa!" Okay, now Raiden was flinching back a bit. That sure was a surprise, but…once he got used to looking at them, the only surprise was that they actually looked like a very natural part of his body. "Those…are they not mods at all"

"Baby, I was born this way," Sam managed to muse. He'd stop being extra only when he was dead.

Raiden frowned and furrowed his brows. "So…if you aren’t human, then what?"

Sam threw up his hands. "People? We don't have a fancy term for ourselves, and nor does any government that I know of. So far. But I suppose we're parasites? Cuckoos? Dinosaurs? You've managed to kill most of the ones from America and Europe anyway."

"I…did?" Jack's frown deepened. That made it sound like he’d poached some kind of endangered species. Maybe that’s exactly what he did do. "I’m sorry?" Now he was just confused, but the big shell had taught him that maybe it’s better not to ask questions, so he wasn’t asking any more right now,

"Desperado liked to find us. Apparently we take cybernetics easier than humans. People on the margins of society are easier to buy and sell, force into debt slavery, make disappear, tempt with power. Anything, and then towns dwindle and spouses find their tentacled beloved missing for months then years. It was one of the reasons I was trying to take Desperado down from the inside. But you managed to finish that job for me."

Well, there was another layer of guilt to all that. Raiden didn’t really know what to say to that, mostly because he didn’t feel much like talking anymore anyway. He was much more interested in touching. "Well, uh…"His hand was already inching towards the smooth tendrils. "Is it alright if I...?"

"My pleasure, _querido_ ," Sam sighed, settling back on his elbows. His tentacles bridled up into waves, undulating sporadically as they sensed an approach. God, they moved so much. Raiden was fascinated and maybe even a little amused more than anything. When he moved his fingers gently, very gently, over the farthest-reaching one in the centre, he marvelled at how smooth they were.

"God," the man muttered, "even I know these probably feel great in someone."

The central tentacle twitched and recoiled slightly before moving itself back under Raiden's metallic touch. Synthetic hands were so very different from fleshy ones, but the sensation of outside touch still overwhelmed the sensitive nerves in the twisting muscles. Powerful and prehensile, his tentacles were stewing in his body's moisture and the scent of Raiden, mixing man and metal and heady oils. His tips wrapped around Raiden's fingers and attempted to draw them closer.

"They really do feel good inside. I can say that from experience." Samuel Rodriguez winked at full cheeky force.

Raiden had to chuckle at the way the thing clung to his finger. The way they moved, he wasn’t sure if it was Sam doing it all or if they had minds of their own. He let them pull him in. He was going to ask how Sam knew how they felt, but it only took a moment to put two and two together. Sam could literally fuck himself. It was just a shame he had nowhere to put them besides his mouth. Curling around Raiden's hand to his wrist, the velvety tentacles began to squeeze rhythmically. The muscles bunched up into plumper and harder rings that travelled up and down like a sucking throat. Occasionally they would clench hard and stiff to rub against Raiden's palm as if they were nothing but strange cocks. Then they'd melt back into honey softness and drip more natural lube. As time went on, the mucus grew thicker and more pearlescent, gaining a similar smell to cooked rice, a sort of buttery carb laced through with a lighter and airy overtone.

Sam had begun to breathe faster and deeper. He grunted when his tentacles changed form dramatically, or one nub caught at just the right angle, or too much got squeezed at once. It felt good to give a squeeze-job, and he wished he could have given it to a man's assets instead. He'd have a boyfriend by nightfall. Not that he was a player with experience or anything. (He was totally a player with experience.) It was time for him to give back after Raiden's hand pleasured him though. These weird little tentacles were something to behold. Raiden marvelled as they squeezed and pumped his arm in a perfect rhythm, knowing full well what those motions were normally used on. He couldn’t help but be a little hesitant to touch them more once they began secreting a thicker slime, though he had to admit that seemed very useful. God, he’d never really wanted his dick back until now.

"How can I make this feel good for you?" Sam asked after a noticeably longer moan.

At the question, Raiden finally turned his attention back to his guest’s handsome face. All he could answer with was a shrug. "Don’t worry about me. Let me do this for you." Actually, he wasn’t really doing much, but Sam sure looked to be having a blast regardless, and on cue he leaned forward as the tentacles clamped onto Raiden's arm.

"I can't let you do that." Rodrigues' voice was deep and cracking like a fire that licked Raiden's lips. Their eyelashes were almost close enough to mingle. "Your lips?" His tongue darted across Raiden's pink mouth to demonstrate his offer.

Raiden made a small gasp, and he reflexively moved away as his face began to heat up. "You want me to… suck on them?"

"You seemed ready to suck my thumb earlier," Sam said. His tentacles crept forward, lolling onto burnished thighs. "And your lips seem so very sensitive. Maybe we could..."

Those sensitive and soft lips pouted a little. "I— I guess…" He glanced down to the tendrils over his thighs. He wasn’t exactly looking forward to having that goop in his mouth. "What do they taste like?"

"Mm, sweet," Sam concluded. "I eat meat and that affects the smell but they taste a bit like camote? Sweet potato? The lube is sweet. The flesh, salty at first, then that smooth taste." He smiled, thinking about the people he'd sucked off in his life. Back in Brazil, he had a trick for finding some delicious tentacles on men and women and in-between. The taste was still great when paired with the thick and heady soup of sex on the brain. "I think tentacles taste good. Much better than squid."

"Hey, squid’s pretty good," Raiden replied with a smirk. The way Sam described it made it sound fine enough to taste. Certainly better than human fluids. "Alright. I’ll give it a try then."

As answer, Sam pushed forward again to kiss Raiden, then heaved his body up on his wide knees. The kiss came so suddenly that Raiden was unable to stop the tiny moan that came from him. When their lips were separated the next moment, he felt his face become as flushed as it did during their first kiss. There was no doubt in his mind. He wanted more, and Sam was obviously ready to give him more of something. Rodrigues' tentacles dangled in front of Raiden's face, swaying only a bit and mostly from the physics of his thick thigh muscles pulling to either side. Sam felt unsteady like this, wondering how good Raiden would be. If the boy were as good at sucking as he was at being pretty, Sam was certain that he'd crash down onto his butt in pleasure. He ran his hand through Raiden's pale blond hair, then again. Raiden had grimaced at first at the view of those tentacles in his face, but then Sam started petting him. Inwardly, he felt that maybe he should have been insulted by this sort of attention, but then maybe he was just too glad to be receiving any attention to care. It felt pretty nice for both of them anyway.

Sam gripped and pet that lovely head until it bowed forward, hoping stimulation on his scalp could carry through a positive sensation. The push to the back of his head made it obvious that Sam wanted some attention too. Raiden took a small breath and leaned in. Before he could put his whole mouth over one of those things, he wanted a taste test first. He slowly opened his mouth just enough to get a small lap at the tip. One small tongue tip elicited a deep breathy sound from above, then another pet of Raiden's head. That felt nice. That little tongue had so much promise, and it was so hard to resist snaking all the way into his mouth and down his throat and pumping there. Just not yet. Instead his other pair of tentacles lifted up to stroke Raiden's chin while the central one's thin tip circled around the tongue then began petting its top. Let me in, let me in, it said with movement, while its friends below whispered, just let go.

It turned out that sweet potato was a pretty accurate description for the taste. Raiden was able to get accustomed to the thickness of Sam’s secretions, and luckily they covered any unpleasant saltiness his skin might have had. This was a good sign. It came as a bit of a surprise when he felt two of them petting his chin while the other oddly stroked over his tongue. He retreated at first, but quickly felt ready to lean back in at Sam’s quiet urging. He really wanted to be sucked. 

Raiden glanced back up to Sam’s face, wanting to see how desperate he might have looked. He was seriously considering being mean and making him ask for it, but he didn’t invite Sam into bed to taunt him. Maybe another time. For now, Raiden wet his lips and closed them gently over the end of the central tentacle. Samuel's entire body began to melt once those soft, warm, plump lips closed around his lip. His jaw went lax and his eyes shone from under their heavy lids. He felt heat on his cheeks as clear as the pulsing warmth in his loins. His central tentacle crept forward, and found itself met by flesh and light subconscious suction the entire way. Wow, that felt good.

Growing plumper as it shimmied itself in, the tentacle began winding around and wrestling Raiden's tongue like a French kiss. The two at Raiden's neck swirled there with no pressure, simply rubbing against him affectionately. After a while, Sam's hips had begun to twitch and his loose leins came to poke at Raiden's mouth. It would have been impossible for the other man to take a single tentacle entirely on his first time. Three would be right out. But lust made things hotter and wetter and more insistent as the central tentacle continued pressing in. But the nice thing about having something like a tentacle to work with for his first time sucking someone off was that the end of it was thinner than a regular dick. Raiden was able to open his mouth around Sam’s central member and suck on it with ease. The length sure had the potential to be a problem, though, but as long as Sam didn’t try to reach too far, he’d be fine.

Suddenly Raiden made a small noise as he felt his other tentacles trying to wriggle past the corners of his mouth, and when the central one began pushing deeper, he made another noise as he felt the urge to gag. Okay. Maybe he wasn’t so good at this.

The upside to having the mouth unengaged in a kiss was the liberal license to speak. Or perhaps that was a negative point to the position and situation. Alongside groans, moans, and praises, Sam found himself coaxing Raiden to take more in and promising such a big load to come. Raiden might not have been getting any pleasure out of this, but he was greatly enjoying all the noises his partner was making and the attention he was getting from his other tentacles. Sucking dick wasn’t so bad. But then Sam started promising a big load and, no thank you. Raiden wasn’t sure what sort of semen or whatever was going to come out of this tentacle when Sam was finished, but he knew he wasn’t interested a big mouthful of it. He didn’t want to interrupt Sam’s pleasure by protesting about it now. He’d just wait until the right time to bail.

If Sam's sounds made Raiden feel _warm und tingly _inside, then the look on Raiden's face while he was sucking Sam's dicks was enough to get him melt. The cyborg's mouth was soft, hot, wet, pliant, and it never stopped moving in just the right ways. Samuel tried to restrain himself as best he could, as he always did when it was someone's obvious first time sucking on tentacles. Still, his central lein wrapped around Raiden's tongue while the tips of the other two crawled past his gums for a bit. Raiden kept taking him and taking him, like a natural champ. Sam's tentacles scrunched up and slid in, thicker and sweeter than ever. The pads on the thick parts still hanging outside clung to Raiden's face in tiny rows of kisses. And Sam panted.__

____

____

If it wasn’t for how pleasant Sam’s dick and lubricant actually tasted, Raiden would be much less compliant with all this. The one wrapped around his tongue felt weird, and he tried to wiggle his tongue free of its hold, but he quickly gave up on fighting and instead let himself lap up more of his sweet juices. He made another muffled noise as the other two kept on pushing into his mouth, but it wasn’t so hard to fit just the tips of them both. His mouth wasn’t feeling sore yet. Maybe he _was_ a natural at this.

Too good, too soft, too alive. Raiden's eyes were dancing in dim light, wet and beautiful, and waiting for something. Did he mean to look so invitingly saucy? Sam's compliments never stopped. His pants turned into promises: going to come, you're so sexy I am going to come down your beautiful throat, fill your pretty face with—

As he listened to Sam’s continued praise, Raiden’s face darkened in another blush as he answered them in his mind. No, he didn’t mean to look so saucy. He never meant to look much of anything besides invisible or badass. Oh, that’s right, he had Sam’s load to worry about. If he didn’t act fast, it’d be down his throat and on his face, just as Sam said. Maybe he could just let go and pull away before—

Rodriguez stiffened and a groan caught in his throat. The base of his central tentacle inflated its sac even more quickly, utterly distending as it prepared to let loose. The feeling was tight, sloshing at first, and heavy with three tiny embarrassing balls of delight. Raiden had him so turned on he was ovulating? Delicious...

Raiden tensed at first at the obvious sound of Sam coming, and he knew his best option would be to avoid a mess and just try not to choke on what was to come. He made a grunt as his tentacle distended, but he braced himself before receiving…three balls? They were pushed so quickly that they rolled right down his throat, but Raiden’s instincts were quick enough to swallow them without issue. It helped that they were bite-sized, but even if they didn’t put him in danger of choking, they were quite the surprise. That was totally unexpected. Raiden popped his mouth away from all of Sam’s tentacles so he could finally look up to him and speak.

"What the hell was that?"

"Hngahfvl eh?" Sam mumbled through the haze following his orgasm. It had been so long and good as he felt himself empty into a willing throat. There just wasn't any pleasure like filling a receptacle, especially one that was alive and asking for it. Okay maybe not verbally asking for it. Yet. Oh please let this be a 'yet' situation. He could have his tentacles sucked on by Raiden every day, every hour, and die happy and dry. Fill his mouth; fill his stomach; get the boy a pussy, fill it; get the boy a womb, fill it; be the ultimate sinner, get the boy an ass, fill it. Get the boy a weird question breaking into your coital fog, fill it. Huh?

"That's cum, _bonito_ ," Sam said before giving a mighty exhale and slowly lying back on the bed. "Too much for you to handle?"

Raiden pouted, thinking Sam was trying to lie to him again. "That wasn’t just semen. Too solid."

"I told you, I'm not quite human. Who are you to judge? If you had android juices, I would drink them all for you." Sam lifted his head just to smirk over his massive chest. "Even if they were poisonous."

"I wouldn’t want you to drink anything poisonous from me," Raiden answers. "I just want to know, alright? Is it so wrong of me to just ask? You already know so many of my dirty secrets after looking at a _file_."

So much for trying to be charming. "I am trying to put your mind at ease, pretty boy. It already pains me that I cannot put your body at ease as well."

So difficult. "I’m not nervous. I mean, I wasn’t nervous, but your avoidance is just making me wonder if I should be nervous. Should I be?"

"I am not trying to av— hff." Sam sighed. Already he wished they were still screwing. Raiden was far more tolerable when his face was red and flustered, mouth put to work, eyelashes glistening. His face moving slightly, pressed in, so close and warm, full of concentration. A bashful blush, all while delivering a heaven of pleasure. Just thinking about it made his tentacles curl.

"Well?" Raiden leaned closed, frown clear and eyes staring in expectation. Sorry, Sam, but this boy likes to ask questions, and you sure won’t be getting sucked ever again if you can’t honestly answer at least half of them.

"No it is not dangerous." Sam let his head rest back. "If it were, I'd have a much higher body count."

"So what is it then?"

"It's my cum, _aî_ it just has to be thick to feed the growing babies, you know?"

"Thick enough to form spherical shapes?"

Oh, ouch, okay there it was. Sam stopped breathing, obviously caught. "You felt those? They were tiny. They couldn't have been bigger than marbles, not even half-sized!"

"You think I wouldn’t notice even small marbles in my mouth and going down my throat? That’s not exactly a normal sensation." He crossed his arms and tilted his head. He’s waiting.

"It happens all the time... in us..." Samuel tried to normalise the situation, sitting up so that he could try to charm Raiden directly with his handsome macho body. The other man was not at all moved by the sight. Right, of course, Raiden was stubborn once you let him have power. So much cuter when he's confused. Still wonderful, beautiful, Jack. Even if the sex was still probably the thing conjuring those words. "They're unfertilised eggs. But really small ones."

Raiden didn’t react verbally at first. He uncrossed his arms and slowly pressed his fingers together in front of his face. Eggs. He probably should have guessed that with the vagina and all. But those were supposed to be small? "Actually…" he finally said. "I could argue that they’re actually pretty big if you compare them to human eggs." He just swallowed eggs. Unfertilized, but still. Non-avian eggs.

"Yours are small?" Sam asked genuinely.

"Yes. Barely visible. About the size of a pinhead."

"Huh. I did not know that." Sam crossed his arms, then smiled. "Although I always thought I wasn't pleasing them well enough to ovulate, it seems I may have simply missed it, hehe~"

"It’s…" Oh jeez. He never thought he’d meet someone who knew less about female biology than he did. "Unless you have a tendency to eat out women while they’re on their periods, you probably never swallowed an egg."

"You are assuming a lot." Samuel doubled down on his bravado.

Raiden grimaced. "I mean…whatever turns you on, I guess."

"It's only fair, though, to want to elicit a woman's ovulation if she elicits yours? Even if you only produce sperm, it should be obvious."

"I’m just saying it doesn’t work on a basis of orgasms with humans. It’s just timing."

Sam shook his head. "How do you ever reproduce? Generations of humans, bereft of orgasm at ovulation. It is sad. But you? You're pretty good, getting me to ovulate thrice with your mouth! You really have a talent for it, mister lightning!"

"Believe me, we humans manage just fine." At Sam’s compliment, he shrugged. "Anyway, I don’t know. I never would have thought I’d be talented at sucking any kind of dick, but yours are thinner and taste good, so that probably makes it more enjoyable for me. I’m sure it’d been a while for you though."

Thanks for the opening, Jack. "Not as long as you think."

Raiden scoffed softly. "Course. What was I thinking?"

"But... not for a few weeks, no." In fact, he'd been thirsty for that puss. Or vis versa. Just long, long nights stuffing himself and hoping no one came to his door with some bullshit battle. "You were quite worth the wait."

"Well, I’m glad not to disappoint." And that was the truth. It felt nice to know he was highly anticipated and managed to make someone else happy. With that, he assumed their fun was just about wrapped up, so he put his arms behind his head and laid back onto his bed.

"You sure I can't do anything for you? Maybe I can rub your lips more? Is there a robotic way to feel good?" Sam kept chasing after a second time, seeing Raiden's relaxed body as a beautiful invitation.

Raiden lifted his head and shrugged. "I really don’t know. I’ve never tried anything." He highly doubted there was some sort of special robot way to get off, but there was already something that had felt nice. "I liked the kissing, and sucking you was fine too until I almost gagged." He shrugged. "Even swallowing your eggs wasn’t so bad."

Smile softening, Sam lay down next to Raiden, gaze locked on him alone in the room. The cold air was seeping in to his body again, a reminder of the Denver winter outside, but his heart beat warm and fast. Sam's tentacles crept onto Raiden's thighs, caressing tenderly. His thumb came up to Raiden's lips. "I am always happy to feed you."

He fully expected Sam to lie down beside him, but, ah, the way he was looking at him was making him feel weak in a good way. It almost looked like Sam might have loved him, and that sent his own artificial heart pumping. Oh dear. And the way he was stroking his thighs and lip was making it much worse. He couldn’t be this sensitive, could he? He chuckled softly at Sam’s comment. "Don’t-don’t put it like that." Raiden wanted to pull from his touch, playfully swat him, something besides sit here and melt, but nothing of the sort was happening.

"I will make your mouth feel good while you do the same for me," Sam promised, rolling his thumb slowly over Raiden's lips since they stilled. His skin picked up the residuals of saliva and ejaculate still trapped in the mouth, slickening his way. His touch was soft and light, pressing more than rubbing. He licked his own lips. He longed to lick Raiden's as well. "This may be a problem in the future, but I can go multiple times before resting."

"Yeah?" Just the man's thumb was feeling rather good, so maybe he could go for another round of sucking him after all. But he’d need something first. "I don’t think I’d mind another go at sucking you, just as long as…" He gulped. Ugh, why did it feel hard to ask for this aloud? "As long as I get another kiss first," he said in a hushed tone.

"Hm, you say that is if it were not to happen anyway."

Pausing a moment to take in the near-sacred look on Raiden's face, Sam then slowly closed the space between their lips. His thumb pulled down the man's lip before his tongue could soften the way. Their upper lips met, then there was a slow and wet-sounding kiss.

Sam's arms wrapped around Raiden's heavy body so that they could share their heat more intimately, all while their lips moved above. Teeth occasionally met, or ran over flesh. Sam's tongue focused on stimulating Raiden's lips as much as possible, driven on by the other's man's tiny sounds. Sam produced his own happy breaths and light murmurs as he held tight and his tentacles rubbed against Raiden's crotch-guard in a pantomime of intimacy. There was nothing there to guard but the juncture of legs and wires, and the very end of a battered nervous system. Yet the strong, long muscles worked it in memory of what could have been.


	3. Well that escalated quickly.

Cold white light played over Raiden's skin like a sheet of ice over his soft and warm form. He glistened in the morning, just as he burned at night. He could seem perfectly alive in artificiality, as if plastic threads and silicone fingertips provided a body more real than coal black carbon and unstilled water rushing in blood. When he sat still, he seemed to be made of glass like the window in front of him, etched into the room with the same acid that burned serial numbers onto all his ports. He was a work of art now more than ever, that phrase that Samuel Rodrigues never tired of repeating. When dusky lips met the long cords of Raiden's neck, it could only be that one annoying man.

Now they tarried there, mumbled, licked, and grew warm over the metal and mesh. Strong hands wound up Jack's thighs while a solid chest blocked his exit from the window frame. The man was trapped, loved, nearly devoured, over and over again. It was the rhythm of listless timeless days without war. Mindless hours passed in the empty apartment where both men could pretend that all they ever needed was one another.

Raiden never thought he’d have this sort of routine in his life again. He hadn’t had someone to kiss him good morning since the early days of his marriage with Rose. After all the years he spent sleeping in isolation, it was easy to return to that loneliness after their unofficial separation. Now Raiden had the chance to remember how nice it truly was to wake up to the sweet murmurs and kisses of a beloved companion.

Indeed, it turned out that Samuel wound up staying much longer than Raiden expected him to, and now it seemed like he might be remaining for quite a while. As much as the two men may have tried to dance around it in the beginning, calling their footsteps lust, they moved to the beat of love. It was the hardest for Raiden to admit, and truthfully, a part of him was still afraid of getting too attached knowing that these things could only be temporary in his life. Eventually, he resolved to just enjoy this while he had it, and he intended to enjoy it to the fullest.

That was what caused him, a short time ago, to reach out to an ally he hadn’t spoken to for some time. The Good Doktor was all too enthusiastic to be hearing from Raiden again, and enthusiastic still to carry out the unusual and rather embarrassing request that Raiden barely managed to spit out to him. He just really loved to lend a hand to a cyborg in need, though it wasn’t a hand he gave to him. What he gave to him was currently causing a tightness between his legs that Raiden was still unaccustomed to as Sam moved over him.

"Sam," he moaned, still a bit groggy as he clumsily moved his hand over his partner’s broad, muscular back. "I’m only just barely up."

"We can fix that by a few inches, no?" Sam sucked on Raiden's shoulder then kissed up his bare neck. It hadn't taken much convincing at all to acclimate himself to loving Raiden in all his forms. Because the man was special, and a person first. It didn't matter to Sam how much of Raiden was replaced with a machine. The mind behind it stayed the same, and the fights only got hotter. He would have liked to have known Raiden a little earlier, perhaps, just to see the growth in his skills. Raiden of course absolutely would not have wanted Sam to know him when he was younger. If he wasn’t an emotional wreck, he was a rookie. He only stopped being an embarrassment a few years ago.

"I know you can," Raiden replied, knowing full well that Sam would turn that into an innuendo. It was true, though. At this rate, he wouldn’t be able to keep his hardening member in its housing much longer. He was already resigning himself to the inevitable round of morning sex that Sam was wanting. As if it was some chore that he wasn’t growing equally excited for. While Sam was insisting on leaning so close, Raiden figured now was as good a time as any to let himself open up. It always turned Sam on so much to feel his cock throb against his stomach once it was just released.

"You know I want to," Samuel admitted. His hawkish nose nuzzled behind Raiden's earlobe. "What else do you have to do today?"

Empty of intent, the question tumbled into the sounds of rustling sheets as the thicker man pulled his thighs out of restless dreams and tight sleep shorts. Sometimes Sam had things to do during the day. Sometimes they left him smelling of copper and bleach. He always came back to the apartment as if it were home.

Raiden couldn’t help but chuckle as a great comeback came to him. "I suppose nothing besides you."

Jack let Sam strip the little bit of clothing he had. It didn’t matter to him where Sam went or what he smelled like when he returned—well, that sort of mattered, but he’d yet to smell of anything too repelling—as long as he returned. So far, Sam hadn’t left him lonely for long, and he always made the time he was there worthwhile.

The comeback drew an appreciative chuckle immediately. And a butt grab. "Mmm, trust me, _formoso_ , you are the only thing I want to do all day."

Raiden grinned even though the sensation of his synthetic muscle being squeezed probably wasn’t as satisfying to either of them as a handful of natural flesh ass. His arms came to wrap around the other man’s neck. "I know that too well. You might make me agree."

"You like being filled by me that much?" To join his words, the very tips of Samuel's tentacles tickled at Raiden's knee joint. That got a tiny laugh out of Raiden even though he wasn’t ticklish. He was starting to blush. 

"It’s pretty good," he admitted. Having a vagina and having something inside of it sure took some getting used to, but it wasn’t terribly long before he finally understood the appeal of being filled.

"What do you like best?" Sam's question came as a purr while his sensitive appendages flickered upwards. His left hand smoothed along Raiden's side while his right brushed over the ghost of Raiden's hardness. The man was such fun to tease, and the faces —the sounds, the everything— he made when frustrated made him more delicious than a three course pancake jamboree. "Is it when I have these in you? Or my fingers? Just two of them curling up inside you until you mewl like a kitten? Do you like the thin tips, or does it suit you better when all three of my lengths are buried in you to their thickness, so much that they must curl around one another to fit inside your tight, sweet pussy? Or do you like it when I fill you with my tongue..."

Every word came with a demonstration, from squeezing muscles to the slide of palps against skin, to a final lick over Raiden's lips as Samuel brought his entire weight around. Then, he lowered himself along with his voice straight into the sensitive nape of his boyfriend's neck. "Or do you like it best when I breed you and fill you so full of my eggs and milk you can't even move?"

As soon as Sam first posed the question, Raiden knew he was in for some merciless teasing and tried only to brace for it. Try as he might, he couldn’t resist reacting in all the ways he knew Sam loved as he tormented him with the power of his voice and his touch combined. Raiden averted his eyes, nibbled his lip, and, of course, blushed as Sam went over all the ways he could undo him. His body tensed, and his pussy squeezed as he felt fluid beginning to seep from it. There was no stopping his imagination from running wild with everything Sam described, but the worst came with that final blow. Raiden released a gasp and the tiniest, sweetest moan before he could clamp a hand over his traitorous mouth. A hand couldn’t have stopped his cock from throbbing fully erect or his pussy from squeezing tight at the thought of being stretched by egg after egg as they slid into the most embarrassing thing he had asked Doktor to install.

"Maybe I'll have you carry one to term. Imagine months of being stretched and heavy. And we'd have to pump more and more into you. Nothing to do but to take care of my child inside of you. Nothing to do but be loved, mercilessly, adored, just like you deserve. I won't let you lift a finger. You just have to... do t-h-i-s..." Slowly, Samuel's outer tentacles rolled into Raiden's soaked pussy. His central one wrapped around the cock above, and there it pulled and squirmed. Watching and feeling Raiden get so turned on by the thought of being filled had turned the other man on to bursting. He could tell his partner was ready, with that tiny moan acting as the loudest YES. All the same, Rodrigues attended to Raiden's artificial parts, layering on pressure, slick, and rubbing textures over cock and lips. His mechanical hand squeezed at a metal thigh while his flesh pet just around the soft little wetness that began to bulge. He wanted to suck those lips and maybe nibble the needy clit above, but he'd chosen his approach for this round already. There were other lips to claim any way.

Sam's words weren't all that serious. This was dirty talk. Sure, he considered having children sometimes, and if he were to have any then, it would most definitely be with Raiden. Somehow. But speaking of being too full to move was entirely a fetish thing. And thank heavens that Raiden had given that fetish a try. Not so much a fetish as a biological process for Sam, of course. But still.

The first time Sam had tried that sort of dirty talk, Jack had very strongly rejected the idea with a bright red face and jumbled words. It was before he even considered getting the new womb of his. Children? No no no. It lead to such disaster before. He couldn’t imagine ever wanting another, especially when he couldn’t even be a parent to one child from one mother. Imagine having another child with another…father. He’d be the mother, wouldn’t he? That confused him before, but now, well, now it turned him on, if he was brave enough to admit it to himself or anyone. The idea of holding a man’s eggs, babies, whatever, wasn’t something Raiden thought he’d enjoy so much, but here he was, just dripping at the thought. Maybe it was the idea of being so coddled as well, that desire that was hidden away even deeper in himself to be loved as never before, that made the fantasy Sam spoke of all the better, but Raiden would sooner admit to the pregnancy thing than to that. 

If Raiden could finally get out of his head and into the picture Sam was painting, he would find himself almost unable to keep upright in the wake of his growing arousal and the perfect stimulation Sam gave him. He leaned heavily against the other man for support while his head bowed forward. Having a cock back for the first time in years along with a brand new pussy and having them both stroked when he was still just reacquainting himself with sex all over again was just too much. He could hardly even make a sound, but the look on his face said it all, even if he tried to hide it behind his pale sunlight hair.

"I'll take care of you. I've always got you," Sam promised. That could even be true between them. Sam did have a habit of providing for Raiden when the other man was in dire straits. Being cared for sexually was certainly better for both of them than getting a hand me down sword in the middle of an ass beating though.

The ass in question could focus on being pumped into instead. Samuel's tentacles expanded and contracted as they shimmied in and out, waterlogged muscles and pads plumping up and pushing in ever deeper. It was a wet process, and made slick sounds all in tune with the murmuring and moaning of lovers. At the beginning, the tentacles themselves wriggled in strongly, but by the time they had hit their bases and wound around one another like a candy braid, Sam's hips were driving them in as forcefully as a cock. And they could still get thicker with arousal.

Above, Samuel's thumb rubbed in time with his clenching central lein, moving between the base of the brand new cock and the sensitive head of a pearly clit. He pulled the cock shaft and rubbed his palm over the head at intervals, all to eat up the lost look on Raiden's face as the pumping and sucking of strange appendages spun his desire beyond words. Every movement held confidence and strength, offering stability and dominion to his partner. Raiden didn't have to sacrifice anything but his time. It was safe to be pleasured, and nothing else.

Samuel sealed this promise with a kiss. Their tongues tentatively met. Their lips remained ever soft despite the calloused scar atop Sam's. Their chests and hips bumped together in unison. Sam's hand cradled Raiden's cock. The tentacle moved lower. It was time to go deeper.

This was how their dynamic was. Raiden accepted it long ago. Sam was always the one to take care of him, emotionally and sexually, but at least Raiden could say they were almost even since he was giving Sam a place to stay and all. As he’d said when they first started doing this, Jack was no innocent virgin totally lacking in experience. It’s just that when he was with Rose, he had always occupied Sam’s role. He’d been the one to dominate and see to his lover’s every need. And though Jack liked to think he did a good job in that arena. Now he was always on the bottom, at Sam’s complete mercy. He just couldn’t compete with the man’s experience, and even if his pride told him he should try to push back, he could never care enough once Samuel was getting started. 

It didn’t help that he was still getting used to his new parts, reacquainted with old sensations of pleasure, and learning about all new ones. Really, most of it was totally new to him. Being penetrated by appendages far beyond the average human member, stretched and filled in a way he wouldn’t think was possible, all while having his cock stroked in a blessedly familiar way. Oh, but Sam never forgot to touch his clit either. Now that was the real shocker. Raiden hadn’t even asked Doktor to include that detail, but oh, was he glad he did now. It was all too much. How could Raiden ever possibly learn to do anything in the wake of so much pleasure besides lay back and squirm and make all kinds of delicious faces and noises totally outside of his control? 

That was the strangest part to all of it. Being totally out of control and loving it for a change. For once, Raiden was able to feel totally safe and perfect with Sam toying with him. When Sam leaned in for his kiss, Raiden was able to come back up towards the surface of reality, aware enough to kiss back and embrace him. He could feel that coil of tentacles moving now, and he knew what was coming.

"Formoso," Sam breathed in-between kisses. "Beautiful." He licked Raiden's lips. "Your faces, your sounds..."

Their mouths met fully again while he grabbed the other man's ass for leverage. His braided tentacles piled in as deep as they could go, and butt cheek met hard hipbones. The artificial walls around him felt just as good as the real thing. Sliding in and out was a heavenly experience. He couldn't help but get harder, bigger, wetter. And if Jack wasn’t already as flushed as his skin could get, Sam’s compliments sure would have done the trick. Anything he might have wanted to use for a comeback got lost in a small yelp Sam claimed his ass.

Doktor had also taken the liberty of making certain parts of him more sensitive than before. Erogenous zones. There wasn’t any detail he was willing to overlook. It was going to be the undoing of both of them.

"You excite me, Jack. Always have." Sam let out a loud moan when he hit Raiden in just that right spot, that right way to make him clench and flutter. His eyes screwed shut. He was getting so close. "Always will. You're... so good."

"You’re always great too," he managed to say over the naughty wet noises and the sounds of their bodies meeting over and over again. It was the last coherent thing he was able to say before he felt the synthetic muscles of his pussy shudder, making the rest of his body do the same. When he felt something very different inside of him, however, he went still again. 

Something warm and wet dribbled into the very back of Raiden's robotic pussy, spreading outwards as Samuel expanded and wriggled about at the ends. When more liquid came out, shooting hard and voluminous, the wriggling sensation solidified into pumping. Jack cried out, caught completely off guard by the sudden gush of liquid that hit him. He barely had time to recover when he felt something more round and solid stretching his walls like nothing before. Sam's hips were shuddering, bucking off-tempo. His tentacles were pumping _Something_ into Raiden. Then somehow it got better, worse, more complicated.

Anal beads, it definitely felt like anal beads. Winding their way up the twined shaft, in a little procession of hard and bulging pressure points, marbles felt like they were coming into Raiden's already stretched insides. So many of them were piling up against his deep walls and jostling at his spot, rafted smoothly from body to body on all that lubrication that was still flowing freely. It was leaking out of him at that point, having nowhere else to go unless he clenched up.

Oh god. Eggs. Raiden knew enough to tell what was coming out of Sam and going inside of him, but he was powerless to do anything about it as he felt them all go in, one by one, pushing against his spot and stretching him more and more, so far beyond what he thought he could take. How could it feel so good? Raiden would think this should be horribly painful, but no, it was quite the opposite. He moaned and dug his fingers into Sam’s hips. He felt beads of tears in his eyes. He wanted to roll his hips and arch his back, but truth be told, it was a little hard for him to move while this was happening. There was so much that he could feel it leaking out between his legs. It felt so dirty, but he was far beyond shame at that moment. He was only barely able to make out what Sam said next to him.

"I'm going to come, Jack."

Oh god, THIS wasn't coming?

"W-Wait, you mean you haven’t already?!" Raiden yelped.

"Not yet... the big one..." Sam grit out, barely able to communicate. Laying felt so horribly, overwhelmingly, good and he had to hold himself back from letting its pleasure overwhelm him. But he had stamina and practice. He had the most beautiful man in the world clinging to him for dear life, and still managing to sass him. What a perfect lover.

The big one? "Sam, I," Raiden began, trying to wriggle himself back. Maybe he was able to take this much without issue, but if there was a much bigger amount of eggs and fluid about to come, he’s not sure if he’d be able to handle it all. He wasn’t even aware yet of the way he’d already had to expand to hold all Sam had given him, assuming that the perfect aching stretch was all in his pussy. "I’m not sure if I c—"

The pressure started at the base of Samuel's spine, then crackled through him like a slow motion lightning bolt. Yes, it was coming now. The big, properly fed, ready to be fertilised egg, the main deal, the lein stretcher, the plump pussy wrecker. The final push was coming, and he felt his side tentacles contract so hard from pumping out lube and semen that they hurt.

Oh, hell but there's something traveling down my pussy now, Raiden thought, definitely bigger than the ones from before. What was this? Did Sam have different sized eggs? Raiden nearly screamed, the sensation of his orgasm’s sudden arrival forcing him back onto the bed. His neck went taut from turning his head back, from the stretch of his jaw as he made one burst of noise followed by silent crying. Other parts of him went taut too. 

He felt it going deeper, and this time he was finally able to feel the stretch elsewhere, higher up in his abdomen, the newest alien sensation to him. When he was able to make noise again, all that came out was a string of "oh god"s between heavy pants before he made one last weak cry as another orgasm took him by surprise. Even after it was over, Raiden could hardly get his grip. He could still feel his pussy twitching, clenching weakly around the big egg and the many smaller ones that came before it. His stomach radiated with a dull ache. He could have whimpered.

Looking down at Raiden gave Sam a moment of clarity. He was going to impregnate this boy. (not really actually) Oh pretend it's really actually. (god yes, put it in him, he's so beautiful, make him scream) Raiden already looked so beautiful. He was puffed up, visibly, from being full in a way alien to any concept of masculinity. There were eggs in him, floating in sperm and lube and so much pre. Their bodies were connected so tight, with hips and clenching fingertips. And he looked like he was enjoying it. Those eyelashes were so pretty, and the wetness there matched his lips and looked like dew. The atavistic desire bloomed into Sam's quiet clarity once again before flooding it with a filthy, howling orgasm: yes, you're going to impregnate _this_ boy.

Raiden's clenching drew out the tail end of Sam's own orgasm, leaving the bigger man both wet with sweat and feeling absolutely drained from all liquid inside. His arms shook with the effort not to collapse his weight onto his partner. The robot body could take it, probably, but conscientious habits died hard. Yet as his elbows dug into the sheets below, and his tangled black hair bowed over Raiden's face, and his chest heaved with dry heavy breaths, and his tentacles shrunk back to a normal size...

"Te amo..." I love you, that was all his mind could process.

Oh, Raiden would have hated to have Sam collapse on top of him in his current state. If enough pressure was put on his stomach now, he’s surely leak out even more of the fluid, and that would just make him feel filthy. Not to mention it probably would hurt and— ah. The big L word —or A word, in this case. It wasn’t the first time Sam had used it, even, but it was still a lot for Raiden to handle. 

"I…" He licked his lips. "I know." Coward. Shut up. He’s tired.

"Mm, hm-mm," Sam wordlessly accepted the sentiment while nuzzling at Raiden's neck. He wasn't expecting a good answer, or even a romantic one. Han Solo suited his Jack well anyway. "If I pull out now, there will be a mess," he murmured before licking tenderly at the hinge of Raiden's jaw. He looked down at Raiden's rounded body, stuffed ready to burst. "I do not want to."

Raiden sighed, still feeling plenty warm while Sam went so far as to cuddle him as he always did. He almost liked this part best. His jaw tensed and then opened slightly as it was licked. When he saw Sam looking, Jack finally took a good look at what had become of his body, and it made his blush return. Oh jeez. He looked like he had a baby bump. When he dared to touch it-just the slightest tap with one finger, as if something in him might start to move if disturbed-it even felt like a bump, almost like when Rose had just started to show. Is this what it felt like? Jack just felt embarrassingly full.

"Think we can manage to walk over to the shower with you plugged in me to avoid ruining the sheets?" Jack suggested in jest.

"Hm, get these up here," Sam said in agreement. He took one hand from Raiden's lovely butt to push up on a lovely calf instead, guiding it around his hip. He'd have to carry his partner to make this work, but it would be worth it. Laundry was... no one's favourite thing. And all that inside of Raiden would really honestly be horrible coming out. It was supposed to be absorbed by a body. But this body was made of wires and struts and silicone sheets. So careful bathroom time it was.

Also, this way, Sam could feel Raiden's stomach against him. Full, taut, bloated from the best damn sex they'd had in a while. That cyborg body looked so good when stuffed to the brim with tentacles, jizz, and eggs. Those tentacles could slosh around in all of it now, so long as Sam kept their hips tight together. It felt sinful, but good. Seemed like the passage was so stretched it couldn't even think about going back to normal yet. 

Shouldn't he look like this all the time? Wasn't he happy then? He'd seemed very happy when he was pulled open, vagina to heart, accepting everything fully. False semen on his stomach spoke to orgasms that had shattered them both.


	4. Did you lay this egg, Raikyoin?

Jack had been joking about being carried to the bathroom, honestly, but if Sam was willing to try it, so was he. He cooperated fully, holding onto Sam as instructed and keeping himself in place as he was picked up. Raiden couldn’t help but sigh, grunt, or make a tiny moan with nearly every movement. The slightest disturbance made all the contents in his pussy and stomach shift around, sometimes creating embarrassing sloshing noises from within him. That combined with being held like this made Raiden almost want to cover his face until this was over, except another part of him also really enjoyed being handled this way. That made it even more mortifying.

"We're almost there," Sam cooed, keeping his large and firm grip on Raiden's leg and hips. The triumphant walk he'd been planning was more of a grunting shuffle. Raiden was making most of the noise, though, in a way that made Sam want to nibble them right up like candy. As far as the Brazilian was concerned, they were treating each other as lovers, as equals. Sometimes Sam on top, sometimes Raiden, each aiming for the other's pleasure. They teased one another. They cleaned one another up. So now, they were sharing a walk to the bathroom. There wasn't anything emasculating about it. Embarrassing, sure, since one missed move could end in a splosh of cum and ova onto the floor and their legs. Because boy there was a lot in Raiden and it was moving right along with them. What a trooper Raiden was for keeping it all in him.

It definitely wasn’t easy, but Raiden knew how to keep control of his own body if nothing else, so he managed to hold it all in during their shuffle to his shower. Really, the most difficult part was the way Sam’s tentacles moved with his steps, going the slightest bit forward and back. It made Raiden’s legs tighten around him.

Finally, Raiden's back met against cool tile. Sam kissed him to soften the blow, hoping for another cute moan for his effort. He couldn't say that the moans were "cute" out loud without snap-back of course. That was only occasionally a deterrent. Slowly, Sam's hands let go, and his tentacles carefully unspooled. He was trying to let the vaginal opening constrict on its own, instead of pulling out in one gush. He wanted, selfishly, to keep his boyfriend (boyfriend?) plumped and pretty. He looked like a pregnant woman. That was a surprise turn-on. A lot of things about Raiden were surprise turn-ons.

Sam got what he wanted as Raiden sighed and moaned oh so softly from the kiss. He knew they made it, and he was already feeling better. It only felt better when those long, long tentacles started uncurling, relieving some of the pressure inside him even before the liquid was able to begin gushing out of him. That felt pretty gross, honestly, and it made Jack grimace even though the strain of his stomach was beginning to lessen.

Seeing all of the white fluid pour from him was such a shame. Some eggs came out effortlessly with it too, bouncing off the floor or their feet before rolling towards the drain. It was kind of disgusting, and kind of arousing, to think that all of that had been in him. The biggest egg lay almost primly at his opening, refusing to go out without a push.

Jack groaned when he felt it. God, the damn thing was too big to come out like the rest of them. He was gonna have to push it out like he was really laying an egg. Truth be told, having spent all this time without any sort of muscular passage between his legs, he’s almost forgotten how to force something out of him, but the natural reflex comes to him in a matter of moments. After taking a breath and closing his eyes, he tries to get it out quick and get it over with. Oh, but that’s easier said than done. The thing causes nearly as much upset going out as it did going in, and Raiden isn’t able to get it all the way in one smooth push. Apparently, he’s quick to recover his usual tightness. He takes a sharp breath of air when it's halfway out and stretching his entrance wide all over again

Oh, he's laying it! Sam's mind screamed at him while his eyes widened and he felt his palm covering his own mouth. The other hand was being held tight as a vice by three tentacles, their puckers sucking hard enough to surely leave marks. There was no way to hide his low sound of appreciation, a moaning growl while the plump white pod stretched Raiden's rim. That Doktor surely had made a work of art that returned to its virgin tight state. It seemed a miracle that these same lips, this same passage, had accepted three lust-enlarged leins and the giant egg.

If he were to ask Raiden, he wouldn’t think of this instant-virgin pussy to be a miracle, more like a curse. After taking another quiet huff of air to try and recover, Raiden could finally notice how Sam was reacting to it. When he heard that moan, it made his clench around the egg again, which only made him grit his teeth. "Jesus, does this really turn you on? I was about to chase you out of here. This is humiliating…"

Sam looked away, dark eyes darting obviously to the side while he managed to blush. "It is... sexy to me," he mumbled. His free hand laid in a loose fist against the shower wall. His eyes returned to the egg. "When they come out of me, the eggs feel wonderful. So I assume, for you..."

"It’s… augh… kind of a mixed bag…" Raiden’s lips tightened before he continued. "The stretch is…pretty good, but it’s also frustrating with it stuck here, and I think I’m only squeezing around it tighter being so, you know…" Embarrassed. "I— I think I’m just feeling it go back in me."

That didn't sound very good. "Do you want help?" Sam offered. That egg had to come out, or all the jizz still inside Raiden would just be stuck there. Along with the much smaller rise in his stomach.

Raiden groaned, frustrated to have to need it. "Sure, fine. Just…be careful."

Carefully, Sam knelt down in front of Raiden. His mismatched hands steadied the smaller man's hips. He looked intently at the artificial mons before him, where it bulged and the lips below winced occasionally from exertion. He leaned forward slowly until the tip of his nose touched the small sensitive hood at the organ's anterior. Then he licked.

Long licks across the labia turned into shorter ones at the front, aimed for quick pleasure and rolling with technique. Sam ran the backs of his fingers over the wet track where his tongue no longer touched, not allowing them to remain without stimulation for long. He pressed and rubbed lightly, while eating out the front in honest enjoyment. His nose and cheek brushed against Raiden's penile housing, with enough of a nuzzle to not quite be an accident.

Raiden watched Sam carefully, feeling embarrassed still as he assumed Sam was going to inspect his vagina like the Doktor himself. He assumed he was going to try manually spreading his lips and maybe reaching his fingers inside to extract the egg, but…nope. He became confused when he started leaning his face closer. No, he couldn’t be. Then he took a lick, and Jack shuddered. What the hell is he doing? He’s got an egg stuck in him, and he wants to eat him out? "Sam, what the hell—ah…" Damn him, he was good at that, but this was weird. This was not the time. "Jesus, you wanna taste your own kid or something?"

Finally Sam looked up from his work, dark eyes grumbling for him. Good joke, Jack, but missing the point. "I want to loosen you up."

"Oh…" Fucking duh. Well, Sam would certainly do a good job of that at this rate. "Um. Right. Okay… proceed."

Before answering, Sam gave his lewdest lick and a kiss. Then a wink. Then he decided to only answer with a hum in his throat and a knuckle rubbing at Raiden's entrance.

Once Raiden was starting to get wet on his own, and his clitoris was budding firmly between Samuel's loving lips, the Brazilian man moved to phase two. His forefinger slid into Raiden's pussy only a small way before he met his own progeny. He felt a bit of pride at the egg's size, and hummed louder around Raiden's clit. Good boy, he took it all, all of this, even this big healthy egg. Infertile egg, never going to be a baby, but still big enough to give a human an award for taking it. Sam crooked his finger a few times to feel long where the tennis-ball sized egg was stuck.

Already Raiden's walls had tightened and were forced to relax all over again. Sam pushed in deeper until Raiden's inner labia squished into the webbing where his probing left forefinger met his middle one. He was barely curled past the egg's middle. It was the only leverage he was going to get, so he began to crook the very end of his finger again while doubling his assault on Raiden's sex.

Raiden’s face only heated up at Sam’s stupid, smug, showy reply. Ugh, just like him. But Jack couldn’t even be huffy for long, because once he got back to work, he could only think of how good Sam was and how lucky he was to have him. As he was so skilfully stimulated, his pussy felt less uncomfortably stretched and blocked up and more wet-and not just because of the mess that just happened-and what he could only describe as fluttering. He felt his walls twitch and open up, and when Sam started sliding a finger in, they clamped around it. Ah, yep, there went his fingers. Raiden grunted as his already full pussy had to take in even more, but with Sam’s help, he felt himself quickly adjust and forget the ache. For a time, anyway. When he curled his fingers and started pulling the egg towards his entrance, Raiden made a small noise that he covered with his hand.

Enjoying every quake of Raiden's body, and especially the single meep that Raiden was as ashamed to make as Sam was delighted to hear, Sam continued hooking the egg downward. With careful pressure and loving licks between hood and labia, the egg descended. Soon, Sam was able to push in a second finger which gained more purchase on the slippery thing. His breath flowed out of his nose and over the hot mess between them. Fishing out this egg was starting to get him turned on too.

Gently pulling down on the egg, Sam let out a heavy breath. He pulled away from where he'd been licking so he could look up at Raiden squirming above him and trying to hide. The boy looked as beautiful as ever, brushed in pink where his skin remained, or perhaps painting himself with a synthetic illusion thanks to the Doktor. Reality and Lies meant little when their Result was a vibrant body to match the soul that Sam had fallen for. That desire mixed into Sam's voice like a thick chocolate.

"Just a little squeeze, _faça-favor_. You can do it, babe, just a little bit more."

Jack exhaled after Sam and looked back at him when he felt his eyes return to his face. Oh jeez. He could see the emotion in Sam’s expression, and it makes his heart quicken with what he tells himself is just nervousness. No matter what kind of open book Sam made his face to be, it still wasn’t a mirror. Raiden would probably never know what Sam could be seeing to make him look at him like that. 

At Sam’s instruction, Jack licked his lips and started pushing down on the egg once again after spreading his legs just a bit more. This time, he could feel it more steadily going downward, so he kept at it, determined to get it out in this one push. He huffed once in exertion as started appearing at his entrance once again.

"You're doing fabulously," Sam murmured. He was aware that Raiden often didn't think himself worthy of praise, which perversely only made him want to give it more. Partly because he thought Raiden indeed worthy of laud, and largely because he liked the reactions he got. He was a teaser, and would not apologise. What better way to tease than with the delightful indulgent truth? So, he kept up his encouragement as his fingers pulled down just a little bit harder between clamping walls and the stubborn egg.

Then there was a short squelch. The egg popped out, followed by a blurble of cum and air bubbles. The last of the fluid trickled out regularly in a rivulet down Raiden's heavy thigh. The egg didn't even have the decency to roll to the drain, getting caught by the shower tiles. Kind of disgusting, but sex had its downsides.

Raiden could make a good guess as to why Sam liked to drown him with compliments and praise. The teasing part made perfect sense to him. Wanting to make Jack feel good, that was a little more strange. Though he didn’t want to hold it against him, it was hard to forget that this was the man who had made his cruel grin inescapable as he taunted him with all the horrible deeds he’d done to the point of bringing out The Ripper. Was this some sort of apology? Was part of Sam’s efforts out of a desire to make up for all that? Raiden didn’t want to bring all that ugliness up, so he couldn’t bring himself to ask.

No matter how much Sam wanted to call him beautiful or whatever, Raiden sure didn’t feel that way right now. After the egg finally popped out with a grunt of his own, he began to grimace and shudder at the disgusting sensation of all the remaining goo dripping out of him and down his leg. God, he was going to need a thorough wash. That was the downside to this body: more nooks and crannies than human skin. He couldn’t stop himself from looking down at the thing that just came out of him. "Jesus," he gasped, "that thing is huge." And gross, but he’s not sure if saying that might offend Sam. No wonder it was so damn hard to get out.

"I've seen bigger," Sam commented without compunction. He was a bit turned on at hearing his boyfriend moan while laying. It was an entirely natural reaction, or so he told himself. "And you wonder why I'd want to eat you out? You looked delectable while you were passing it." And there that horrible smile returned.

Raiden just gave him a look. "Whatever turns you on, I guess." He looked back down and frowned at it. It was definitely too big to go down the shower drain. "And I guess I better flush that."

"You can stomp on it. It goes to pieces like jelly," Sam suggested from experience.

That just made Raiden’s grimace deepen. Oh god, that sounded gross. "Would you mind?" He didn’t need to step in a gelatinous egg, thank you.

"Don't look if you are too scared. I'll take care of the spiders too." Sam brought his foot down to punctuate the punchline. There was a loud squelch when his toes met the egg. Squelch repeated a few more times until it became a met smack. The egg broke apart into tinier jiggling pieces, ending up as a translucent mush. If it had been fertilised for a while it would have been harder and had a more opaque core, but as it was the thing was practically gelatine.

"I’m not scared," Raiden replied with a pout. "I just didn’t want to feel that stuff get between my toes." The sounds of it being smushed only confirmed he made the right choice. "What was that about anyway? That was way bigger than all your other eggs."

"I am not a biologist," Sam deferred. He didn't have any good explanation for it concerning protein accumulation or ontogeny or any of that stuff. He barely had good explanations from his grandparents and schoolmates. "Sometimes, they are bigger. When you get exceptionally hard, turned on, looking at the other person as someone you could spend time with, one comes out bigger. It's the good egg. The others are throw-aways." He decided to stop right short of explaining the facts: he knew that it happened when one of his kind looked at their partner and got that overwhelming sensation of desiring... parenthood... Breeding Stock... MISSIONARY STYLE HOLDING HANDS FOR PROCREATION PURPOSES ONLY.

In other words, Sam thought in words he knew he couldn't tell Raiden, I wanted to, (my body wanted to?) get you pregnant. Very dearly. He could say occasionally: let me fill you with my eggs. Or sometimes: I will fill you with my seed. And other phrases implying reproduction. But that was dirty talk for smaller eggs. It never left the bed. It was too embarrassing to Sam, despite his entrenched egoism and bravado, that his body was betraying him and making him feel like he wanted to settle down with his former enemy. He liked Raiden, even loved him, loved him enough not to lie when he said it out loud. But having a baby? Ruining Raiden's life with an actual parasite? Moving beyond teasing one another in all senses of the word into a world of commitment and consequences? Just because his "dick" wanted it didn't mean it was a good decision for his entire life.

Then again what the hell else did he have in life? Crashing at Raiden's because he doesn't have an apartment or even a bike any more. Literally running errands for a man he tolerates at best. Assisting back alley surgeries. Might as well settle down like a housewife for all he brought to the table.

Raiden, of course, had no idea of the full explanation for that big egg, but even with the little bit that Samuel was willing to explain to him, it gave him a hint. "When you look at the other person as someone you could spend time with, huh?" he repeated. Sam always said too much rather than too little. Oh, but was he brave enough to actually confront him with the question he already had a guess for what the answer was? Was he brave enough to go down that road of feelings he’s been afraid to think about or put to words because that would make them real and thus start him down the path to inevitably being hurt again? Jack looked Sam in the eyes and opened his mouth slightly, the question hanging on the tip of his tongue but not leaving. Could Sam see it in his expression? Was he as afraid to answer him as Jack was to ask it already?

Sam looked at Raiden's lost face, heart twisting. That expression hadn't changed since they first met, this recurring battle of confusion, loss, and fear. Trepidation was the conqueror, no matter how often Sam baited Raiden to be bold, confident, even a jerk. After all, someone as shitty as Sam needed company in his own personal hell. He was always dragging Raiden down to his level. The cyborg didn't deserve any of it. But Sam was also beyond remorse.

"Yes. Is there something wrong?"

The funny thing is that Raiden always considered Sam the company in his own personal hell, the poor bastard he was keeping in his sad little home when he had nowhere else to go. Only Sam was more than just the house guest or the charity case or the last resort of a friend that he started out as, and he knew that, but he was too afraid to admit that. It wasn’t like him. He hadn’t been through everything he had just to wind up as some coward too scared to even speak, especially to someone like Sam. He frowned. "What do you mean exactly by ‘someone you could spend time with’, huh, Samuel?"

"I thought I was speaking English," Sam snorted. But his hands where he crossed them on his forearms were gripping hard enough to leave mechanical bruises. "I mean to say that I love you, something I've said many times when I'm inside you. I guess the words didn't stay there as long as my tentacles."

"Well, that’s the thing about English. All those layers of implications that can be hidden in a single sentence." Raiden saw the way he was gripping his own arms, and he felt a little bad for finding joy in the fact that he was making him squirm for once. "I guess I’ve never considered it to mean much when you only say it in the middle of fucking. But if you’ve said it so many times before, what’s changed this time around? What’s got you more nervous than I think I’ve seen you before?"

That unnerved Sam even more. His hand shot up to his hair, running dirty wet fingers through his sweat-matted curls. Now more than ever he wished that he had the scientific explanation, something about serotonin neural signalling in pituitary beta-phosphorous water retention or... anything to distance him from saying something this embarrassing or potentially disastrous. He liked their relationship as it was. He didn't want to actually scare Raiden off.

Incredible. Sam actually had nothing to say. Raiden could celebrate if not for the serious matter at hand. "Look…I get it. I’m…hesitant to admit it too." He grit his teeth and shook his head. "No, I’m scared, alright? I’ll say it." His eyes returned to Sam’s. "But what are we gonna do? Just ignore the fact that we’ve pretty much become…boyfriends?"

"Of course we are, formoso. You hadn't realised that yet?" Sam locked eyes with Raiden, blinking slowly. "That's nothing to be scared of. Boyfriends come and boyfriends go."

That didn’t seem to make Raiden very happy. "You planning on that?"

"No." Sam took a deep breath through his nose, finding his fingers stuck on his head. Raiden really wasn't making this easy. "I want to stay with you a little longer. Much longer. My body wants much longer than that but we can't think with our penises can we?"

Well, Raiden didn’t exactly have a way of doing things the easy way. "Is that a fact?" He swallowed. "So that egg…that one’s intended to knock someone up, isn’t it?" As he said it aloud, his face started to get some extra colour again.

Sam blanched. His face gave him away completely. He wanted to die and his tentacles twisted in anguish. "Shit," he whimpered hoarsely, before trying to cough over it. His hand finally dropped to his shoulder. His eyes looked away from a sight he always loved to devour: Raiden's blush. He knew he should be laying out a million words to cover this situation, but he just found himself mumbling in Portuguese and nodding.

Wow. Okay. This time it was actually way too funny for Raiden not to break out in an almost Sam-like smirk, though the blush remained. It was just really satisfying to have this fucker nailed like this. "Wow… that’s something." Now it was his turn to put a hand over that fluffy blonde hair of his. "I can’t believe you’ve got it that bad for me," he said, trying to draw attention away from his own bashfulness by just embarrassing Sam further.

"Okay, it's not me, it is my tentacles," Sam said forcefully, trying to regain control of the situation, even though all of his anger was directed at himself. "Something in my head or between my legs looks at you and wants babies. I can't even blame myself: look at you. You have a body made for them, man or no. Any man worth his sack would want to empty himself into you! And I, a proud man of great eggs, desire to fill you with them, and only the best. You just look fertile."

Heavens above and hells here and below, that came out... wrong?

It did, but lucky for Sam it only resulted in Raiden breaking out into a laugh. "What? Sam, are you insane? I’m mostly a robot. My body is quite the opposite of fertile. It couldn’t be less suited for kids." He was so caught up in the absurdity of the claim that he was meant simply to bear children that he wasn’t yet considering all the more serious reasons he was ill fit to have kids in any sense.

"What you're made of isn't but," Sam started to gesture fecund and seductive shapes with his hands in Raiden's direction, "the shape is. And the face. You're sexy. That's not funny. Raiden! Jack!"

"I dunno. I think it is." Though his laughter quieted a bit, the grin was still there and still bordering on shit-eating. "I just don’t get it. And this isn’t about me being a self-pitying piece of shit like usual, this is just actually failing to see the qualities that make me perfect for babies. This shape. I don’t exactly have much in the way of curves any more, and I never had big hips, even in my old body. This isn’t about me being extra qualified, just about you being really into pretty boys, apparently. Or robots."

Sam's eyes thinned. He felt really kinkshamed right now and he'd come here to have fun. He couldn't say that. That would admit defeat. "I think you're sexy and you look good when you're, eum—" his hands waved a bit as he looked for a word that wouldn't be disrespectful. "—bloated. Stuffed. Full of me."

Now the smile disappeared and turned to a look of contained surprise instead. "Huh. Never would have pegged you to be into that too." Maybe those words should have offended him in some way or sent him into a more serious kink shaming mode, but something was off. He was blushing again and losing the high ground.

"Into what?" Sam was unaware of the implications Raiden was raising.

"Oh come on, don’t act innocent. Pregnancy, or maybe even just impregnating someone."

"I've tried to avoid that for as long as I've had sex. Unfertilised eggs. Condoms too. Which, yes, can fit over these. So you must be very special. Or I'm a dirtier man than I thought."

"Maybe a little of both," Raiden said with a shrug. Now the smile was gone. He hadn’t been able to forget the seriousness of this matter forever. "Well…luckily with me it’s easy to keep avoiding it. I wouldn’t want another kid." As soon as he said it, he knew that Sam would probably take that to mean he wouldn’t want a kid with him specifically, and before he could question why, he came to the conclusion that he didn’t want to hurt him that way. "Not because it’d be your kid. Just, you know. Anyone’s kid." His eyes dropped as he began to feel awkward and stupid again. It didn’t seem like he accomplished much with this conversation. Shouldn’t he be getting to washing his legs already?

"I respect that even though I believe you would be a wonderful parent." Sam's words came out more formulaic than he would have desired.

Truth was, he did feel a little hurt. Because the reptile part of his brain wanted babies. The romantic part of his brain added "with Raiden" to that statement. All before the logical part of his brain told him that having kids right now was a terrible idea, and he should in fact respect Raiden's choice in the matter. Then the reptile part piped up again with "so let's fill him with as many plumped up eggs as possible and he won't get pregnant and you'll have the orgasms of ten thousand lifetimes, orgasms to shame and awe your ancestors, right in this blondie's body." The Romantic part of his brain had the gall to agree "because you really are attached to him and maybe if you follow that orgasm advice and give him some too he'll love you back. He hasn't said it yet. Maybe he doesn't love you at all. Put out more. Put OUT, Samuel Rodrigues." At which point the logical part of Sam's brain got tired of his entire subconscious being a horny shitshow.

"Yeah?" Raiden asked, his voice quiet and his eyes still towards the floor as he was having a little mental quarrel of his own, and not even about the fact that he didn’t even end up admitting his own feelings because the whole child thing had made him forget all about his original goal. No, he was too consumed with memories again, those of a sweet young face so much like his own it seemed impossible, one that he never saw much at all any more. What was the point of a second if he couldn’t get his first try at parenthood right? He knew his capability at child rearing long before John was born. It was why he had given up the only baby he ever held. "What makes you so sure of that?"

"You're kind, patient. You put up with me, for months. Sure you're easy to goad, but that's more, well, unconnected to patience. You really believe in fighting for justice." Sam had to chuckle at that memory. "You actually do. That puts you on a moral high ground. One that is useless, unless, of course, you're a parent. You strive for what is right, no matter what. You never give up, either. And you need that sort of continual spirit to deal with children, no? And deep within you, I know there is love. It comes to the surface when your cheeks turn red: the fire and passion of gentleness. You can give that all to a child. You could make me obsolete."

Raiden never said the self-deprecating things he said to try and fish for compliments, but it really did feel nice to hear someone challenging his doubts so effortlessly. This time, it was even bringing back a tiny bit of his smile. "You’re kind too, to say all of that, but there’s more to it than all that. One big part of it all is knowing what it’s like to be a child. To remember how they think and feel to better connect and communicate with them. I could never do that."

"I've never thought about it that way," Sam admitted. Raiden's reappearing smile seemed to calm the tension in the cold bathroom. Sam reached behind him to turn the water on in a trickle, waiting for it to warm. "I always thought a parent was supposed to be a good role model. Why I could never be a good one, you see."

Oh yeah, they were still in the shower. Raiden was never more thankful to have a pretty big one. "My status as such could easily be called into question as well."

"I think we just went over that. You're the better man. Unless we want to bring body count into this. Then, everyone we know is guilty."

"Maybe I am better, but that doesn’t mean good enough for my—" Oh, you fool just say it already. He gave a sigh as he turned around to bring his leg under the stream of water. "My son."

"I am sure he loves you, wherever he is." Bending in the warm water, Sam ran his hand down Raiden's leg. Nothing sexual was intended, only helping to slough away the tacky sheets of cum and egg broth. The smooth plate under his palm was cool but deceptive enough to seem like a leg, just made of metal. Did Raiden think that applied to his entirety? That he was playing at being human, but was nothing more than a machine that couldn't be loved? That seemed stupid to Sam: if he could argue with someone, they were human enough to him. He'd met people who pushed the limits of humanity down to a brain in a vat. Raiden was so much more vital and human than anyone he'd worked with or killed.

Raiden didn’t stop him. If he knew what Sam was thinking, he’d be reluctant to admit that he hit the nail on the head. However, he knew that there were still people who truly loved him, including John. "I know he does." The emotions that came from acknowledging that made his voice come out in a choked whisper. There was moisture in his eyes that he prayed would be hidden by the shower water. "But it’s easy to love the wrong person for you." Way too easy.

"It's also easy to ship your problems off to New Zealand." Sam dared to bring up that fact. His fingertips worked hard to get any gunk out of Raiden's crevices and enmeshed wires. His back stiffened, expecting the backlash.

Raiden tensed, but this was Sam. This was what he did. He managed to hold back from physical retaliation, but he couldn’t keep himself completely calm. "Fuck you!" He ripped himself away from Sam’s grasp, a growl forming in his voice that almost could have signalled the end of Sam’s days in a single piece. "I didn’t ship them off! I was hiding them! Protecting them! From you, and your merry band of assholes!"

"What about all the assholes that came before me?" Sam wanted to hold back the next sentence because he wanted to have a place to sleep that night. But he was an asshole. "You hid them from yourself. Because you're afraid of hurting them. You say it all the time, how you're too dangerous, unworthy of love, a walking death machine, all those things you say to punish yourself. You want to do what's right for your family, but you think hurting yourself is the way to do it." Sam stood, blocking the hot water. "But if you really wanted to protect them, you would keep them close as you could. Close enough that no one could fly to New Zealand and kill them when you're not even there. You could keep them close enough to actually be a family, not an ideal. Your son could touch you."

"I tried all of that, Sam!" Raiden shouted back. "I tried it twice! I tried to be the newlywed husband awaiting the arrival of his first child, but none of what I had going for me was enough to keep me from falling apart! Rose may have lied about the miscarriage, but that doesn’t mean it would have been impossible. At any time in those nine months, I could have lost control and hurt her enough to make us lose him! And then five years later, I tried again. This time I tried to play the dad who supports his family, but I was too broken in a whole new way to get any sort of job that could have let me be close to them. And then the whole incident in Africa happened, and I just… It taught me some things, Sam. I don’t know if I can be stable enough to be the father my son deserves. I don’t know if I can stay by his side and ignore all the other people in the world who might need me. I don’t know if I can keep him around me without letting him see something horrible. And there’s so much horrible he could see-the kind of people that come after me, what happens when his father doesn’t do so well in a fight, what happens when his father does great in a fight. He could see what you saw, Sam. There’s so much I put at risk if I have them around me, and I can’t let him get hurt, or Rose, either, even after everything. So I’ll gladly let myself get hurt if it keeps so much as a hair on their heads from being touched, because I can take it!"

Raiden's rising voice echoed through the bathroom to drown out even the water. He was angry, and scared, and regretful, and everything wrapped up into a nuclear package rattling against the walls of restraint. Yet he didn't explode. He didn't lash out physically. He didn't lay the blame on anyone but himself. He didn't lie about others, or try to buck responsibility, or break under the pressure. He was continuing to live. He was continuing to love everyone, even when they didn't deserve it. That's what would make him a good father, Sam thought, if only he didn't have shitty backup whenever he tried.

Sam waited a few moments for the tirade to sink in alongside the shower water, both pounding into his head. He couldn't smile. His eyes were dark, but lacked all malice. His fleshy fingertips and voice trembled, wanting to connect with the man across from him who lived in pain. The man across from him wouldn't even let himself explode after Sam had said probably the worst things he could, the truth. So the truth was the only thing left to say.

"You do not have to take it alone."

After letting that all out, after seeing that Sam had no more blows to deliver, Raiden was able to release the remaining fight in him in an exhale. It didn’t make sense. What did he do to make this man care enough about him to say something like that? To make him willing to suffer through the brunt of this emotional storm? That right there could be the biggest reason he’d fallen in love with Sam, but what had he done to inspire this? It wasn’t just his looks. Or the fact he’d given him shelter. Or returned his sword. None of those seemed like enough. "It’s not yours to endure. You don’t have to. You shouldn’t."

"It's not like I have anything else to do." The response was as simple as it was brutal. Sam didn't have a past any more. He'd killed those who had wronged his family in Brazil, and then after retaliation, he'd had no family. So he'd gone after the favelas and the gangs. Anyone who knew about him died. Usually by his sword. By the time Desperado fished him out of life's equivalent to a drainage ditch, (completely against his will) he hadn't anything left but a body on loan, a bike on monthly payments, a few thousand in his wallet, and his family's sword. What else did he have to live for? Even if Raiden was no more than the only pretty face who managed to stand up to him, that would still make him the only real person in Sam's life. At least Raiden had people to live for. Sam maybe had Raiden.

If Raiden knew the truth, he would have deeply pitied Sam to only have a man like him left in his life. Even with only his simple answer, he still pitied him. "That’s pretty damn sad." Because Sam was perhaps that bored and lonely to put up with all this just for something to do, or because Sam was only here because he had nothing better. It seemed to be his turn to be brutally honest. Jack didn’t know what to say after all that. Now seemed like a good time to actually get back to cleaning himself before they wasted any more water.


End file.
